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An American (Baby Boomer) In Paris

An American (Baby Boomer) In Paris

Travelogue: Paris by the impression. The overnight flight from Newark lands in Paris. I'd have jet lag if I could figure out what time it is. We clear customs, meet and greet our luggage, grab a taxi. As is the case back home, it is always better to not watch a cabbie drive. Amid the traffic mayhem are a lot of people riding bikes; no one wears a helmet. Cafés are everywhere. In French, I think café means outdoor smoking section. Speaking of smoking, many women on the street deploy the cigarette as a fashion accessory. The look is very French. Although I don't speak French, I drop a merci or a bonjour whenever I can. Still, I'm pretty sure they can...

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