Okay, I finally got my notes together, and the loose ends tied up at home after a month in Paris (returned on May 9), and I've taken a shot at a trip report (yes, Ira, I know I'm late). I've never written a trip report, so the organization and emphasis is going to be what makes sense to me. It probably won't be as enjoyable as many that I've read on this forum, but I hope it'll be helpful for those of you yet to go. No flames, please.
I notice that it's exceedingly long, and since each posting is limited to 3000 characters (from the FAQ), it will take multiple postings to get it all onto the forum - sorry about that.

TRIP REPORT PART 1:
Who we are: We're a couple in our mid-sixties, married almost 42 years and fairly well traveled, and (probably after a lifetime of necessity), we more or less agree on where to go and what to do (believe me, this takes most of the stress out of planning a trip).
I spent a year in Frankfurt during high school, and my wife spent a summer traveling around Europe during college. We also lived in southern Germany (on the Bodensee), where I worked for 4 ½ years. So we had both been to Paris numerous times, for both business and pleasure, and had already seen the "major" tourist attractions.

Why Paris?: Well, we're what you'd call "city people". I was born and raised in Brooklyn, and my wife in Los Angeles (yeah, I give her the benefit of the doubt if she wants to call L.A. a city). We love to immerse ourselves, to walk the street and neighborhoods and just get a "feel" for a city, to understand the city's "mentality", for want of a better word. Paris is high (really high) on our list of all-time favorite cities, and since I'm recently retired (as of April 1), this trip serves the dual purpose of a celebration and getting to know the city we love. And we walked the heck out of this city, although, owing to my wife's limited mobility because of bad knees and back problems, "walking" much of the time consisted of pushing her in a wheelchair. This slowed us down only a little, and in no way detracted from the experience we were after.

TRIP REPORT PART 2:
Why an apartment, and how did we choose it?: Why? Because your best chance to understand a city is to become a "resident", to eat, shop, and relax like a resident, to get to know local neighbors, to scope out the local markets and boulangeries, to frequent local parks and watch families at play. You can't get that experience in a hotel. Also, you can't get equivalent lodging in a hotel for the price of an apartment.
Choosing which apartment required a little planning. I downloaded a map of Paris, which included a description of the type of neighborhoods in each arrondissement (www.parisnet.net/parismap.html). Based on this information, my wife selected 4 arrondissements, in order of her preference (the 4th, 3rd, 5th, and 6th). Then, thanks to some helpful links from this forum, I started looking for apartments. Our criteria were somewhat limiting: we wanted a fairly large (by Parisian standards) apartment, so ruled out anything less than one bedroom and 50 square meters; because stairs are a problem for my wife, it was important that the building have an elevator that went all the way to the floor of the apartment (difficult to find in the older buildings), or that the apartment be on the ground floor; and of course, we set a price limit (with some flexibility), based upon what we felt we could afford. Then I began researching apartments, starting in the 4th arrondissement, closest to the river, and working further away, until I found one that met our criteria. As it turned out, we didn't have to go too far - found one in the north Marais, in the 3rd (description of the apartment and neighborhood provided courtesy of my wife in an earlier posting on this thread). The owner is an ex-Parisian (if that's possible), living in San Francisco, so contacting him and making payment arrangements was simple (via credit card in U.S. dollars, which, in hindsight, turned out to be a wonderful choice). Maybe it was blind dumb luck, but the apartment and location were exactly what we were looking for.

The Airport - Passport Control: Upon arrival at CDG, and prior to getting our luggage, we found ourselves in a very long, slow line to have our passports inspected and stamped. There were only two manned passport stations, but only one person was checking passports; the other one was just sitting in his booth, doing nothing. But when he noticed my wife in her wheelchair, he waved us over to his booth, stamped our passports (without examining them), and sent us on our way. Nice! Except for the dozens of pissed-off people still in the other line.

On the return trip, we checked in at the United counter at CDG, and were told by security personnel that we would have to have an employee push the wheelchair to the gate (I would not be allowed to push the chair myself). So we agreed to have some breakfast, and meet the security agent back at the check-in counter so that we could be escorted to the gate. When we got back there after breakfast, the security agent was nowhere to be found, and United agent said it would be OK for me to push the chair to the gate.
So off we went. We took the elevator upstairs, and got in the line for passport control. I estimated that this line was at least one to two hours long (no, I'm not exaggerating), so I left my wife in line and walked to the front of the line to see what was happening. Again, only one person was checking passenger passports (for ALL departing flights). There was another agent in a separate booth, who only checked passports for the flight crews, and was basically doing nothing. I headed back along the line, only to find that the agent that we were supposed to meet downstairs had searched us out and was pushing my wife in the chair. I fell in next to them, and he walked us through the crew passport control and to our gate. He saved us an hour and a half (by his estimate). I guess we should've waited for him downstairs.

TRIP REPORT PART 3:
A word about cabs: This was really a walking vacation, and we only used cabs when we thought it was necessary - to and from the airport, to and from Gare St. Lazare for our day trip to Giverny, and to Montmartre (you really didn't think I was going to push a wheelchair up that hill, did you?).
Upon arrival, we collected our luggage and started following the signs for taxis. It was quite a walk to the proper exit for the taxi stand, and along the way, we were approached a couple of times by men asking if we wanted a taxi. I knew that if you were within 50 meters of a taxi stand, you weren't supposed to flag down a passing cab, but I didn't know if that rule applied at the airport. I asked what the fare to our apartment would be, and was told 90 euros. That was way out of line with what I expected, so we continued on to the actual taxi stand, where I was able to choose a large cab capable of handling our 2 large suitcases, carry-on bags, and wheelchair. The fare turned out to be only 60 euros (even with mid-morning traffic). So, a word to the wise - turn down the solicitations and head for the taxi stand.
We had occasion to phone for a taxi a couple of times. When we called the Taxi Bleu English-speaking phone number, a definitely non-English-speaking agent answered the phone, and then put us on hold for the next English-speaking agent. Never happened! We grew old waiting, and finally hung up. But when we phoned the G7 Taxi English-speaking number, both times we were greeted with a very efficient agent who spoke excellent English. Their taxis were there when we requested, and even the drivers spoke English. I can recommend them (although I never have quite figured out their fare structure).

OK, so now we're here: We arrived at our new "home" at 11 AM, where we were met by Paulo (our local contact), who gave us our keys and a tour of the apartment, and bid us a fond farewell. We were on our own. And tired. So we took a nap - I know, not the best way to overcome jet lag, but we had a month, and weren't feeling particularly jet-lagged anyway. Around 4 PM, we went out and spent the rest of the day exploring our neighborhood.
After that, in a nutshell, we walked everywhere! All told, we covered (on foot/wheelchair) the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 15th, 18th, and 20th arrondissements. We're not morning people, so our days started late (what part of "retired" don't you understand?). I usually made a run to the boulangerie for our breakfast croissants or baguette by 10 AM, and we were out of the apartment bright and early by 1 or 2 PM. We generally got home again between 9 PM and midnight, unless we planned to eat dinner at home or in our immediate neighborhood. More about eating later.

The best part of Paris: The highlight of our trip, to our surprise, was the people! Almost without exception, the people we encountered were friendly, polite, helpful, and altogether enjoyable. I say to our surprise because, on earlier visits (in the '60s and '70s), this wasn't always the case, and weren't sure what to expect. But our fondness for the Parisians is what we'll remember first when we look back on our trip. I'll try to point out some examples of their kindness as we go through this report.
In fact, the only time we encountered what I would call rudeness was from the United Airlines ticket agent at CDG when we were leaving. And she was an American.

TRIP REPORT PART 4:
The weather: We chose April/May because we had been in Paris before at that time, and loved the weather. We weren't disappointed. April was clear and chilly (coat weather), but when May hit, it was like throwing a switch, and summer was on the way. Only rained on us twice. The first time, we sheltered under a tree in the Luxembourg Gardens, and the next time we hid in the cafe at the Holiday Inn in Place de la Republique, nurturing hot chocolate until it passed.

Walking in Paris: This deserves a topic all its own. Walking in Paris is more like an artfully executed game of chicken, as only city dwellers can appreciate. People can be walking toward you on the sidewalk, whether alone or strung across your path, whether they make eye contact with you or pretend not to notice you, or even not walking, but talking in a group, and make no effort to deviate from their path as you approach each other. There appears to be an expectation that you will be the one to blink first. Aha! don't try this with a New Yorker. I know how the game is played. Ultimately, there is no collision. It's a well choreographed dance, skillfully executed, but nobody gets hurt. I was impressed.
Aha again! In addition to my arsenal of city street smarts, I came armed with a wheelchair. In the hierarchy of street-walking weapons, a wheelchair is second only to a baby stroller, and people part like the Red Sea as I approach. In the rare case of two wheelchairs passing each other, the camaraderie is acknowledged by a wave, not unlike the wave two motorcyclists give each other as they pass on a country road.

Walking with a wheelchair in Paris: Paris is generally a wheelchair-friendly city. The sidewalks at almost every intersection are ramped to allow easy crossing, although about half of the ramps were not flush with the street, and we found that the front wheels of the chair would catch when trying to go up the ramp onto the sidewalk. After a couple of near face-plants, we became pretty good at judging which ramps would give us trouble, and negotiated those ramps backwards. Unfortunately, tailgating pedestrians were taken entirely by surprise by this maneuver, and either ran into us or stood totally confused until they figured out what we were doing. For those of you planning to use a wheelchair in Paris, I would opt for one that has rear step bars to enable you to elevate the front wheels slightly when required. It's interesting to note that if the street you're on has a bicycle path adjacent to the sidewalk, they always have very smooth transitions to the cross streets, and we used those at the crosswalks whenever possible.

There were some problems on narrow sidewalks, where the wheelchair would just not fit, or occasionally chairs from the outdoor tables of a cafe would block passage, or trash cans would be put on the sidewalk for pickup. Usually, cafe patrons would kindly move their chairs, or I would not so kindly move the trash cans, or if the sidewalk was just too narrow, we'd make a run for it down the center of the street! What really irked me was when cars would park in front of the ramps, completely blocking them, with their flashers blinking as though to signify that God had given them the right to park there. Who knows, I'm not familiar with parking regulations in Paris, perhaps He did?

There were also some problems accessing the river with the wheelchair - not all that many ramps down to the river, and not always where you need them to be. For example, when we wanted to get on the Batobus, the only way down to the boarding dock was via some steep stairs, forcing my wife to (slowly) negotiate them while I carried the chair down.
Likewise, when we needed to go back up to the street. In cases like that, I would back the wheelchair slowly up the stairs, while my wife walked. Although this was a light weight wheelchair, and I could easily have carried it up the stairs, I wanted to keep pace with my wife, rather than sit at the top and wait for her arrival. Almost invariably in these instances, someone would ask if I needed help, or would just take the chair and carry it to the top for me. Just another example of the kindness afforded us by the Parisians (although, to be fair, in one case it was an Australian that offered).

TRIP REPORT PART 5:
Safety when walking, with or without a wheelchair: Almost all crosswalks (even those between intersections) are equipped with stop/go lights (red/green, can you imagine that?), to tell you when to walk and tell the cars when to stop. These lights are usually at the far side of the street, easily visible from the other side.
Many streets are divided, with an island in the middle. Sometimes, even lanes going in the same direction are divided (usually a general traffic lane and a bus lane). In these cases, there is also a stop/go signal on the center island, as well as on the other side of the street.
Now comes the diabolical part: these lights are not always synchronized with each other!
So, we were dutifully waiting at a crosswalk, watching the signal on the far side of the street. When it turned green, the gentleman next to me quickly crossed to the center island, and we followed. And a passing car came perilously close to the wheelchair. Well, I did what any self-respecting New Yorker would do; I yelled at the driver (who gave me a curious look and drove on). The gentleman we had followed turned and pointed out that the light on the center island was still red, and good-naturedly admonished me never to follow a Frenchman when crossing the street.
And so, fellow travelers, I pass this warning on to you.

Navigating the city: Okay, Paris is pretty easy to get around. Any good map will show you the major attractions. But what if your trip is more than just getting from point A to point B? Ours was basically seeing everything between point A and point B. Well, if you're fortunate enough to have internet access (we were), Google Maps is your best friend. We would start each day with some idea of what we wanted to see, or where we wanted to wander. Eventually, after about a week of seeing the "biggies" (not necessarily as destinations to visit, but as places to walk to), we were at a point where we just didn't care where we went, as long as it was interesting (and it always was). We came equipped with a Knopf guide, and the apartment came equipped with a bunch of others, mostly recent, thoughtfully left by previous occupants. The Knopf guide was best for historical information, Fodor's for out of the way things to see, and Rick Steve's for practical information. Each evening, we (well, Cathy) would go through the guides looking for places of interest to go see the next day. Then, I would go to Google maps, and print out an overview map showing our apartment and our destination. I would also print out detailed street maps of everything between the two (sometimes it would take 3 or 4 maps to cover the area down to the smallest streets). Many times, we would encounter the most wondrous things on the way, and the original destination turned out to be more of a general goal than anything else.

TRIP REPORT PART 6:
Scams and beggars: Well, we encountered very few scams. We, of course, apparently dropped a very expensive gold ring, which some old gentleman kindly brought to our attention. For his effort, we allowed him to keep the ring, in exchange for not talking to us.

We also had a lot of eastern European looking young girls approach us and ask if we spoke English. If we said yes, they would then show us a card, in English, explaining their refugee status from Bosnia (Bosnia being spelled various ways, depending upon which girl accosted us), and asking for money. If we said no, we did not speak English, they moved on. Once, after a particularly tiring day, when approached in this manner, I said, yes, we speak English. Out came the card, which I handed back, and asked the girl to explain her situation to me, in English (else why would she ask if I spoke it?). After a momentary blank look, she moved on. This clever move on my part earned me the wrath of my wife (believe me, something you don't want to earn), who accused me of being rude to the poor girl. From then on, rather than responding to them, I beat them with my wife's cane!

Once, while sitting on a bridge just enjoying the river, we noticed an old beggar lady walking across the bridge on the other side of the street. I watched her as she slowly crossed the bridge, holding her cup, bent double and barely able to move, her hooded face almost touching her knees, clearly in agony. We watched her for almost 15 minutes as she inched her way across the bridge. Now, I said to Cathy, I wouldn't feel bad about giving her some money. She's faking, was Cathy's response. Now you have to understand that Cathy is from North Hollywood, and is, by default, the family expert on acting, so I kept my money. Well, the old lady finally reached the end of the bridge, with no choice but to cross the street. Half way across, the light changed, and, lo and behold!, the old gal raised up, hitched up her Burka, and double-timed it the rest of the way.

The beggars we saw, by and large, were not intrusive or offensive. They came in two varieties. They were either women in eastern European garb, who just sat with their cups or bowls on the street without accosting anyone, hoping for a handout, or they were young, healthy looking men (also non-intrusively sitting on the street), invariably with two large dogs. I wondered how much it cost just to feed those beasts. If I were really starving, I reckon I could live on the cost of the dog food alone. And it seemed these young men were never lacking for friends, who would sit and visit with them.

And I'm not even going to tell you about the time I ran over the old beggar lady's toes with the wheelchair. Really, it was an accident!

TRIP REPORT PART 7:
Shopping: There are two kinds of shopping, the kind that you're all hoping I'll talk about (clothes, jewelry, shoes, souvenirs, etc.), and the other kind (you know, food, household items, soap, all the stuff you need to live someplace).
Well, you can forget about the first kind. In a nutshell, we're non-shoppers. The extent of our souvenirs consists of a CD that I purchased from a street band, and a cast iron model of a Kiosk (about 4 inches high) and a rock crystal from the lapidary store in the Louvre for my wife. Now I know that many of you use shopping as a way of saying "I really wanted to go to Paris but needed an excuse", but for the life of me, I can't understand why you'd actually SHOP when you got there (personal opinion, flames graciously accepted). Can't be the prices, that's for sure.

For our everyday shopping, our neighborhood had everything we needed. We did our major shopping for the week at the Monoprix market a couple of blocks from our apartment (Monoprix is a chain of stores around Paris that I'd describe as combination super market/department stores). We generally prefer supporting small local stores, but, just as back home, you can't underestimate the convenience of finding everything you need in one place.
For our day-to-day shopping, we went to a couple of small grocery stores and boulangeries on our street, or close by. They were convenient, carried some different items than Monoprix, things were easier to find in the store, and we could avoid the long checkout lines that we often found at Monoprix.
More about Monoprix. All the grocery stores generally closed at 9 PM. Monoprix REALLY closed at 9 PM. I went there one evening at about 8:40 PM, and there were employees scouring the aisles and ushering shoppers to the checkout stands so that they were out of the store by 9.
The layout of the store was interesting (I can't say that this applies to all Monoprix stores, as we only frequented our local one). Immediately inside the store, on the ground level, facing the street, was the bakery. And this was a real boulangerie, offering an amazing selection of fresh-baked breads, croissants, and all of the other goodies offered by the local boulangeries. It had it's own checkout stand, which always had a long line.
Also facing the street on the ground level was the drugs and sundries area of the store (selling things like bath soap, shaving needs, tissues, deodorants, etc.). It had its own checkout stand, generally a long line.
Further back on the ground floor was the very large grocery section, with everything you'd find in the grocery section of a supermarket in the States, and more. There was a much greater variety of fruits and vegetables than I've seen at home, and they were very fresh and re-stocked often. There was a separate cheese counter (manned by a separate clerk, with, of course, a separate cash register). The variety of cheeses was amazing, and they were really tastier than the cheeses we could buy at home. And, while not a dedicated wine store, the wine selection was enormous (God bless the French!).
The grocery section had many checkout stands, but there were still long lines most of the time.
Upstairs was dedicated to housewares, hardware, toys, clothing, etc. Again, with its own checkout stands (only 2), and accompanying lines.
Now what if you wanted to buy things from the bakery, grocery, and housewares? You'd think you could just dump them in the basket and pay for them all together. No way!
You had to pay in the section where you purchased the items. But even that didn't seem consistent. I was in a fairly slow line upstairs, behind a woman with two active (as in chase them around the store) children, trying to purchase a pair of child's pants, which she had taken off the clothing rack in that section. Like the rest of us, she waited patiently in line, trying to keep her kids in sight, until it was her turn to pay. But, to her surprise (and dismay), the cashier said she would have to pay downstairs (which meant waiting in another long line). There was an animated "discussion", which I understood, even without speaking French, but the cashier was relentless, and the woman headed downstairs (not a bad plan, as things turned out, because one of her toddlers had found the escalator and was already on his way down).
The shopping carts were cleverly daisy-chained together, and required a token or coin to be inserted in a slot on the cart to disengage it from the cart in front of it. The token or coin would be ejected upon re-inserting the chain when shopping was completed. A clever way to keep the carts in the store. Of course, on our first visit, we didn't know this, and spent a frustrating few minutes trying to free a cart. An elderly gentleman, noticing our plight, finally explained to my wife, in French, that we required a token to remove the cart. Without further ado, he went on his way. Well, we didn't know where to get a token, or what it cost (and didn't realize that we could also use a coin), so we wandered aimlessly about looking for something we never found. Several minutes later, apparently taking pity on us, the gentleman returned and handed us a token. We offered to pay him for it (I still don't know if it actually cost anything), but he refused with a smile and went on his way. Another kindness by the wonderful people we met. We used that token all month, and left it in the apartment for the next visitor.

TRIP REPORT PART 8:
Eating: This is going to be quick and simple: we're not foodies, so our eating experience is accordingly unremarkable. We generally had a couple of meals per day. Breakfast, of course, in the apartment, except on the days that we had early starts planned (when we took the St. Martin Canal boat trip, and when we went to Giverny - more about these later). Next meal was usually dinner, more often than not in the Latin Quarter, but sometimes elsewhere, and sometimes in our apartment. Our favorite was La Grange Saint Michel, on rue Saint Severin (ate there at least 4 times). They have a 3-cheese fondue that's just amazing, and their raclette is also pretty good. Another favorite was Caffe Soprano, on Avenue des Petits Thouars, just a block behind our apartment. Italian, just as it sounds. In both of these, we apparently became familiar faces, because we were always warmly greeted by the waiters. In fact, at Caffe Soprano, we were ushered to a table ahead of a sizeable crowd waiting to be seated. Maybe it was the wheelchair, but I think it's just because we're likeable! We also tried Chez Omar, a cafe just outside our apartment that specializes in couscous. It received great reviews from several guide books, and the owner of our apartment, but frankly, couscous can only be dressed up so far. If you want to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, you need to start with a silk sow.
Do yourself a favor, skip Omar's.
We did stop for lunch a few times, when we had a long day of walking ahead of us, or when someplace was particularly notable, or otherwise recommended. A couple of times at McDonald's (stop moaning; it was a matter of convenience, and it felt good to hang on to some of our euros). We also stopped for onion soup at Au Pied du Cochon (recommended by many on this site), and Brasserie Bofinger (for it's historical ambiance). The onion soup at Cochon was good, but you can get good onion soup in most cafes - it wasn't memorable. Bofinger is worth a stop just to bask in the opulence of a bygone era.
As you can see, I can't contribute much to the art of fine dining, but I do have something to say about ice cream. Berthillon seems to be everybody's favorite ice cream, so we gave it a try (several tries, in fact). Our opinions range from OK (from me) to not very good (from my wife). But we can both agree that the best ice cream in Paris can be found at the curbside stand in front of (and operated by) the Stohrer Patisserie on rue Montorgueil. Try it, you'll like it! The patisserie itself is the oldest pastry shop in Paris, and has served such notables as Queen Elizabeth.

Museums: Musee d'Orsay: We got there just before opening time, and were greeted by a long line of people waiting to go in and purchase tickets. But because of the wheelchair, we were immediately allowed to enter before the doors even opened. A very accommodating approach that we noted all over Paris. We were required to purchase tickets, however.
Once inside the building, navigating in the wheelchair became overly difficult. Elevators were small and cleverly hidden, often requiring help to find, and almost never conveniently located. Some exhibits were sometimes a few steps up or down from a given level, requiring my wife to get out of the chair and climb a set of stairs. Not a major problem, but it happened frequently enough that we opted to skip some exhibits and move on.
The building itself was a work of art, and worth exploring.

The Louvre: What can I say? The place is amazing, both for its content, and scope. There is no admission charge for a person in a wheelchair, and the wheelchair motor (me!), so we chose to make this a 2-day event. My wife had seen the Mona Lisa before, so we didn't plan on seeing it again, but as it turned out, we accidentally found her, and my wife was impressed by how much better the lighting was than when she first saw it in 1964. I guess the renovation of the building was for the better.
We were mostly interested in the sculptures in the inside courtyards and surrounding rooms. Magnificently displayed. We also found Napoleon III's apartments, and the old city wall in the basement, very interesting.
We covered a lot of territory in our two visits, as well as visiting the mall beneath the museum, where my wife bought one of her two souvenirs in the lapidary shop (worth a visit in itself). There's so much more to see, but that's for our next trip.

The Carnavalet Museum: One of our favorite, located just a few blocks from our apartment. The artwork is not necessarily by well-known artists, but it provides a great historical overview of Paris, and is very satisfying. The fact that it's in a fine old building adds to the intimate feeling. Not to be missed, in my opinion.

The Arts et Metiers museum: Located just a few blocks north of our apartment, on rue Reamur, this is a fun museum, especially for those with a technical interest. It's housed in an old church and priory, and the setting (particularly in the church) is stunning. It houses mainly historical scientific and mechanical items, including Focault's pendulum, and Lavoisier's laboratory, as well as cars, planes, electronic devices (telegraphs, radios, FAX machines), a rocket engine, etc. The museum is extensive, so plan a few hours to take it all in.

The Picasso Museum: Also within a few blocks of our apartment (if you get the impression that we lived in a convenient area, you're right). Well, except for the building (inside, not outside), I'd skip this one. It has mostly Picasso's sculptures and drawings, not so many paintings. But I guess I'll never understand his appeal (personal opinion; YMMV).

TRIP REPORT PART 9 (final installment!):
Interesting side trips: We took a day trip to Giverny by train. This was a wonderful diversion, well worth seeing (but don't go there to see Monet's paintings - they're mostly in museums). The house and gardens were beautiful (amazingly so), and my wife came away with landscaping plans and a to-do list. The sooner her eyesight fails, the sooner I can say it's done! But the guide books don't have much to say about the town of Vernon (where we got off the train). That's too bad, because Vernon looked like an interesting town, and we would have liked to have had more time to explore it.
We bought our tickets for the train (from Gare St. Lazare to Vernon) the day before, at the SNCF office in town. My wife speaks some French, but the ticket agent spoke much better French, and when all was said and done, my wife came away with 2 first class tickets and a confused look. We opted for first class because one of our guide books mentioned that it was necessary in order to get a compartment that we could bring our wheelchair into. So imagine our surprise when we got to the station and found the train was an entirely second class train. No problem, plenty of comfortable seats, few people, ample room for the wheelchair. So why did the ticket agent sell us first class seats?

Another interesting excursion (but only worth a half day) is the boat trip on the Canal St. Martin. We picked up the boat at the Port de l'Arsenal, near the Place de la Bastille. The canal immediately goes underground as it goes north, and emerges from the tunnel near Rue du Faubourg du Temple. At this point, the boat navigates a series of locks, which take at least 20 minutes each to get through, during which time we go nowhere, and are serenaded by the incessant chatter of a guide over the loudspeakers. After the locks, it's a short cruise to the end, at Parc de la Villette. My opinion: the trip through the tunnel and the first couple of locks is interesting, but by the third lock, you'll wish that you could jump ship and do something with your life! The neighborhood along the canal, from Bastille to the end of the locks, however, is very appealing, and makes for a lovely walk (which we took a couple of times). The area where the canal is underground is covered by a long, pleasant park, and the locks are very picturesque. Also, one block to the east, in the area of the locks, is St. Louis Hospital, which was built in 1607 outside the city walls, and has survived intact. It's worth the side trip just to see the buildings and grounds.

That's all, folks! Sorry that I took so long to write this, but my life seems to have gotten busy since I retired, and somewhere between my return from Paris and now, my son managed to get married, necessitating yet another trip. I realize that it's not the same sort of trip report that many of you more talented folks have posted, but I hope that I provided some useful information.

Les, what a lovely report. One month in Paris after retirement - just exactly what I'd love to do ... many years from now.

<< Scams and beggars: Well, we encountered very few scams. We, of course, apparently dropped a very expensive gold ring, which some old gentleman kindly brought to our attention. For his effort, we allowed him to keep the ring, in exchange for not talking to us. >>

This has got to be the funniest thing I've read here for a while. Thanks for the laugh.

Thoroughly enjoyed your report! Almost died laughing from the part about the New Yorkers' trick of navigating crowded sidewalks-- worked perfectly for me on a packed Charles Bridge. Doesn't work so well in NYC anymore though-- too many new arrivals who don't know it.

Wow, whole MONTH! If I ever get the luck to do so, I don't know how I'd be able to live anywhere else afterwards.

Les,

Thanks so much for such a detailed report! We're heading to Paris for a week in September ... I'll be bookmarking your report for reference!

Bookmarking - Very much looking forward to reading this at leisure.

Very interesting and it sounds like you two had a lot of fun. Your Italian restaurant seems familiar. I wonder if I've eaten there. If you care to answer, where did you find your apartment, through VRBO or an agency?

I can't wait to retire! Hope I'm flush when the time comes. Thanks for the inspiration.

You did a brilliant job Les - wish I could remember so many finer details but alas even though my DH bought me a dinky little recording machine the size of a small cellphone, I couldn't get into the habit of making notes and am relying heavily on photos to job my brain!

Leely2,
We looked at many apartment rental sites (some of which are regularly mentioned on this forum), but eventually found what we wanted through VRBO. I mentioned our criteria for selecting an apartment earlier in my report. Also, I like the idea of dealing directly with the apartment owner, rather than with an agency, but that's a personal preference. Others on this forum have been happy dealing with agencies. Ideally, you will want to find an apartment you like coupled with an owner/agency that you feel comfortable with.

What a wonderful report, thanks for taking the time to put it together! Glad you and your wife had such a terrific time.

I like reports with lots of details so this was excellent. However, Monoprix stores are set up and operated in all sorts of different ways (for one thing, each building has different architectural constraints). In my own Monoprix, the supermarket is in the basement, and you can pay for anything that you picked up on the main floor (clothes, light bulbs, greeting cards, books or anything else...) at the supermarket checkout. On the other hand, you cannot pay for food items upstairs.

Les - Great report! I loved the detail.

Les, really enjoyed your report. Retirement time really does seem to fill up quickly.