We arrive in Paris on July 7, 20ten...So as I said in my earlier post (pt. 1) I always like to measure whether it's "my time" as the plane takes off....that's just me. Once I wear myself out with that drama (with buddhist chanting and thoughts of how I too am entitled to "live large" like Angelina, Madonna and Prince....) - - the flight is usually quite nice. I guess the fact that my mom had recently passed away - - a person who I'd spent many years trying to help - - I felt an even greater sense of "is my work done here - - now that she's gone?" We fly direct to Paris from Los Angeles (leaving 9pm ish) and arrive in Paris late afternoon the next day.
I must to admit once we get to the hotel (and our cute room at Hotel Bretonnerie) I make the mistake of momentarily laying on the sort of day bed/couch (we barely slept at all on the plane) and one teeny weeny thought sneaks through...."I'm too tired to go anywhere".....so I bribe myself up with the big guns - - the promise of cafe cremes galore - - and off we go.
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