LH Franz That night, we returned for the third and last time to Café Dalayrac, the café down the street from our hotel, where by this time they knew us on sight.
“Where’s dad?” the waiter asked us, after we were seated at a table. “Où est le papa?”
“He left today. We’re leaving tomorrow,” Betsy explained in French. “I wanted to thank you for your hospitality on our visit,” she added.
“C’est normal!” he replied.
The meal was relaxed and pleasant, a leisurely conversation between mother and daughter on a warm night in a Parisian café.
We agreed the Versailles visit was a total disaster. I found myself saying, “Well, I guess I’ll have to come back some day to get that visit done.” And I noted that although we visited the Louvre, and we did as much as we could in a few hours, we certainly didn’t visit much of it, and then found myself thinking I wouldn’t mind seeing more of what the Louvre has to offer. Along those lines, I started thinking about some of the things that had dropped off my itinerary during planning. I would have liked to see Montemarte. Had it not been for my blasted feet I would have gone there with Betsy earlier in the day. I never got to see the inside of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. And of course, Notre Dame was still under construction to repair damage from the bad fire in April 2019. I would definitely have to see that when it was all fixed up.
“That’s it,” I said. “That’s five things I specifically missed seeing. That deserves another trip.”
As we continued the conversation, my mind was working in the background about how to replenish my frequent flyer miles in preparation for a second Paris jaunt.
