Rawalpindi. If this shopping Mecca does not carry it, then you do not need it.
Originally I had thought Peshawar would make for a wonderful, if long, day trip from Islamabad, but common sense prevailed and I scaled back this day’s plan to Wah Gardens and Taxila.
I left a pair of linen pants to be laundered before heading to breakfast with Tony. After the long flight they were misshapen and coated with flight funk and I wanted them fresh for my return. Laundry cost, €2.86 equivalent. A gal could get used to this. Continue reading “Dangerous Days in Pakistan. Tea Time”
With a little help from the Concierge I was able to track down Zulfiqar, my driver/guide. He had simply gone away for the weekend, but was fully committed to being at my service for the next four days. Phew.
Now that I have your attention… 😉 I’ll just run with this spoiler: the extraordinary hospitality and friendliness of the Pakistani people is dangerously addictive; their cuisine, even more so. Leaving Pakistan was like wishing a good friend farewell, my heart heavy wondering when I might return.
“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.