You are not in Kansas
(Provence) any more.
You get strict instructions
from Clay about how to get from CDG to your hotel – and you’re told that under no circumstances can you puss out and
take a taxi. Two trains and several
turnstile adventures (you’re schlepping two suitcases), and an hour later, you
emerge above-ground a few blocks from your hotel (the St. Vincent: http://www.hotelsaintvincentparis.com/
) and
Pamella, who got to town a day ahead of you.
You walk to the St. Vincent: third floor, room 326, w/ view of a “courtyard.”
Pamella brought a couple of duty-free
bottles of Maker’s, so you break one of them open and settle in. The lime scarf you bought in Venice looks
great on her.
Evening: you walk the neighborhood
a bit and she shows you the suit you have to buy. Dinner at an excellent Indian place three
blocks away.
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