Sun 06 Nov
I’ve been back from Paris since last Wednesday night, but I spent the first two or three days battling a jet-lag-fueled exhaustion so acute it hurt. It gripped my spine, shoulder blades and neck in the same way that I histrionically and baselessly imagine the bends must treat its victims. Not fun. I’m closer to normalcy now, but I’m still waking up very early in the morning and going to bed very early in the evening, which I admit isn’t unpleasant.
Until yesterday, I was in no shape to blog, but I’m not sure I had all that much to say about Paris anyway. That is, apart from the obvious, which is that it completely justifies its reputation for being redolently gorgeous and romantic, at once historically overwhelming and inspiring… if you conveniently ignore the civil riots taking place at the edge of the city.
Having little command of French, having not actively sought out English-language news, and having spent not even fifteen minutes online while there, Joy and I were more or less oblivious to what was going on in the eastern suburbs, where a tragic social frustration was boiling over as we toured, shopped and ate like kings. I’m embarrassed to say it.
With that in mind, I have this to submit humbly: a Flickr set of our obliviousness. These are the fifty-four best of the 450 or so shots that I took on this trip — lately, I’ve been really getting into my nearly year-old Nikon D70.