On the first day I went to the outdoor café set out in front of the town hall, enjoyed the fountains, the warm air, and my first diabolo frais of the season. I corrected the galleys of Murder in Caleb's Landing and felt very Hemingwayish and Fitzgeraldish.



The commune of Puteaux, which touches La Defense has these signs showing local sights. The Mayor goes out of her way to make the place beautiful. Heavily populated with a mixed population including many Arabic people, it has not suffered the same problems as some other areas with similar populations. Small businesses thrive, there are many activities for all. The name comes from the word for quagmire and the commune was first settled in the 1100s.



In the commune where my friend lives, Zoe and her friend Artur stand on each side of the crossing walks in front of the schools, a visual reminder that it might not be a good idea to squish a student with a car.



We went to the antique flea market in Porte de Clingancourt. It was set up much like the souks in Damascus. At lunch all the vendors sat down and tables and had a pot luck lunch (they would have called it a Canadian meal). It would have been rude, although tempting to ask for a sample. The puce has been around since the late 1800s.





Over night all the cars were banned from the Champs Elysée and farmers had turned the busy road into a garden. Trees replaced cars. Perhaps all of Paris turned out. Since the city has an estimated population of 11 million and Switzerland has a population of seven million, it did seem a bit more crowded there than home. Still I am glad I saw what I could over shoulders, through arms, etc.



The toilet stalls at Orly have painted doors. Trust the French to make the mundane beautiful.