Hi all, I’m in Paris and I have only one thing to report:
Jet lag is real. I’m typing this at what is nearly midnight back in Salt Lake, but I’m getting ready to go out to see the Louvre today. I’m at least five steps behind and probably think I’m way more clever than I am in actuality, given the mental fog, so I won’t say much now. (I do have to say though, that my French is holding up well. I can read and say just about anything I want, but this is my first time among native French speakers, and my listening is hit or miss).
However, after only two hours here, Angela and I managed to stumble into what has to be the creepiest taxidermy shop on earth. She said “It was like stumbling into Lucifer’s sex shop. Safe word, formaldehyde.”
See for yourself, although this picture doesn’t really do it justice:
Trust me. The skeleton guy was not enjoying himself.
More soon, after sleep.