Once upon a time Japan was terra incognito. Then along came Commander Perry in 1845 to “suggest” (he brought his fleet of American warships as a calling card) that Japan end its policy of national seclusion by opening its ports to trade, and the fascination with the exotic began.
“Open every Sunday.” Just one of the many reasons to love Paris.
I woke early enough to spot Jupiter or perhaps Mars outside the window, a little before dawn. Tony cautiously asked, “How are you feeling?” My head felt like the size of the Hindenburg, but the rest of me felt human. Four cups of tea and some remaining Bûche de Noël later (Hey, feed a cold and starve a fever, right?) and we were all cheerily bundled and heading to the Festival du Merveilluex.
Just as they have done for the past 16 years, the “children” woke at 0500 to see what Santa had brought.
Christmas Eve. There is always something to do in Paris that has not been done before.
While chatting with a friend in late autumn we mutually discovered that her visiting family was looking for a place to stay over Christmas, while we were looking for someplace to travel for the holiday. The plan was born.