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Trip Report MlleFifi's week in Par(ad)is, with a side trip to Nancy

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How can such a long-awaited vacation be over in a blink? Came back home a few days ago and have been suffering from painful withdrawal, so I'll start this trip report to help myself and others relive some Paris moments.

Day 0 - The day before Thanksgiving

Packed light this time-- just an 18" wheeled carry-on. 4 sweater-dresses, many wool tights, Under Armour Coldgear leggings, 1 turtleneck top, 6 scarves, socks, underwear; leotards/tights/shoes for ballet class; gloves, earmuffs, umbrella, binoculars; alarm clock, tiny computer, camera, extra memory cards, flash drive, cords and chargers; Moleskine Paris book, Paris Red Map, printouts; Passport, euros, dollars, ATM/CCs, Navigo pass, leftover RER/metro tickets, theater tickets; toiletries, glasses/case; coat, boots, handbag.

Cat was "tres sage" this time-- didn't whine, didn't pee in protest, didn't struggle before getting into his carrier. Dropped him off at boarding and brought my luggage to work. Boss let us out early at 2pm that day, so I had plenty of time for last-minute errands before heading to the airport. This time I flew from Newark, which was so much less stressful than JFK on this "busiest travel day of the year"! At the AirTrain entrance and all over the airport, there were workers efficiently directing clueless travellers. Went through check-in and security quickly. No chaos at all.

Day 1 - Paris!

Shortly before landing, I overhear the people in front of me chatting with one of the (Air France) flight attendants; he tells them he enjoys visiting NYC: "...a city like New York you can visit 20, 50, 100 times... always something new to discover." On my way out, I tell him that's exactly how I feel about Paris.

Landed at 8:30 in the morning. At immigration, the line for non-EU is labeled simply "Tous Passeports" -- not the humiliating "Rest of the World" as Heathrow puts it-- but of course the people who came up with terms like "belle mere" would be more diplomatic than the English.

Took the Roissybus to Opera. First half of the ride was completely unscenic-- on the freeway through ugly suburbs-- but then suddenly we enter the 18eme and I see a boucherie, several patisseries, and those Haussmann buildings I adore. A dog sits in front of a boulangerie. His owner comes out to untie him after having bought a baguette. He's so happy to see her that he hopped several yards on his two hind legs. Today, I understand that joy. In Paris again!

(to be continued)

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