France Day 1: Arrivals

No honeymoon, shopping spree, or tourist adventure has brought me to France for the next twelve days. By the luck of the draw, I married a bona fide Frenchman many moons ago and he still maintains strong business ties with the Motherland -- which means that he graces her shores frequently.

For the first twenty-odd years of our union, we made beaucoup trips together. So many, in fact, that I used to say, "Oh God, not Paris again. Why can't we go somewhere else for a change, like Borneo or Prague?"

Times change and it's been five years since I last heard that incomprehensible language spoken unilaterally. (Did you know that Japanese and French are the most difficult languages to learn?) Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder, because it feels almost homey being back on French soil.

For my first day, I offer the below photos as proof that the French are masterful beings, at least when it comes to artistic savoir faire. This is the lady's bathroom at Charles de Gaulle International Airport, better than any trip to Disneyland.

Entrance to Ladie's Bathroom

Anonymous woman waiting for a stall



Behind these glorious doors, relief for the weary traveler.

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