Au revoir Paris; hello Florence.

Kentucky, that is.

Waking up in full-on travel mode, it was 6am when our duo tossed the key to Yannick, bid him adieu, and smartly hopped a taxi to CDG. 4 hours early with nary a bag to be checked, it wasn't long before they had cleared security and were swilling espresso in the Air France Club Lounge. Foo happily stuffed her pockets with all the edibles she could find—crackers, cheese, cookies, and a pain au chocolat for good measure.

One of the first to clamber on board the 767, Bob's initial disappointment in discovering the lack of individual seat back TVs was promptly offset when the boarding doors closed and he realized there was no one sitting in the seat next to him. This meant nine hours in the air relishing the extra space, enjoying the view of Greenland from the window, and NEVER having to worry about crawling over someone to go pee.

A turbulence-free flight and an easy trip through customs found our heroes heading to the Hilton in Florence, Kentucky for the night before heading home.

Kentucky as you may not know is a Commonwealth, not a State. Can you name another?

Fighting off jet lag, they strolled over to Rafferty's restaurant to find that the local dialect was almost as alien to their ears as French had recently been. "They actually say y'all in this fine burg!" whispered Foo to Bob.

So with a dinner of potato soup, a fillet of beef, and a slice of Kentucky Silk pie—our weary travellers called it a night. For tomorrow would bring one more flight, then home to Mama Foo.

Au revoir Paris—vous voir bientôt.

Fighting off sinking into travel mode, Bob and Foo started the day with their usual routine—cafe at Le Nustrale. But that wish would be short-lived as Le Parisien headlines screamed something about an RER stike: the train line between downtown and the airport. Oh no!

Now fully gripped in travel mode, Bobbers tried to deduce if this was a one day event (tres typique en France) or an ongoing labor outage. Noting there was absolutely nothing he could do about it (and that a taxi was always an option, albeit an expensive one), they fully embraced their last day in Paris and hit the streets doing a circuit that took them up towards L'Opera. They found interesting passages to wander through, and spent the morning window gazing.

Grabbing a sandwich, they arched a circuitous route to Place Vendome, skirted Concorde and crossed the river to Invalides. Slugging down their afternoon cafe in the Babylone section of town they paused to call Mama Foo who reminded them to be in the moment, not in 'travel mode'—but to get home SOON! With this sage advice they went back Seine-side and dropped onto the lower quay before vectoring back to Les Halles to grab their dessert eclair, and prep for their pasta-in-a-bucket dinner.

A fitting final meal before heading home (depending on who you ask).

Dimanche aventures.

After bidding bon voyage to Didier who was headed off on his own vacance, Foo and Bobbers did what they do best: hit the streets, looking for adventure. Today would find them roaming the entire length of Paris.

Starting with a window shop walk up Rue de Rivoli, they found all sorts of purchasable shirts to match Bob's recent tie acquisitions. Their morning goal was to hit the insanely crowded Bastille Market which, in addition to selling every sort of fish, meat, vegetable, and cheese to be found in France, was also a general flea market filled with assorted flotsam and jetsam. Foo was a tad spooked by some of the charcuterie stands which were too close in resemblance to her own kind. So Bob diverted her attention with a fun juggler who balanced a jar filled with water and goldfish on his head.

Then they headed for parts never seen before—La Defense. They grabbed the Metro #1 and rode it to the end of the line. There they enjoyed the ‘other’ famous arch in Paris—Arche de la Defense, the Arc de Triomphe's modern day counterpart mirrored many miles away down the Champs. La Defense is predominantly modern skyscrapers but there is no shortage of fantastic parks and public art.

Take the Metro back to town you say? HA! Bobbers could see the Arc (albeit, a speck on the horizon) and quickly calculated it as a doable walk. Foo knew it was going to be one of those days (then again, weren't they all...?). Not being in Paris proper any more, they had to pass through Neuilly sur Seine before reaching the Porte de Maillot to reenter the city. And what a trudge it was! And because it was Sunday, food options were quite slim...so our heroes (quite famished by now) had to slog all the way to the Champs before food options presented themselves.

A slice of pizza was enjoyed at an outside cafe, the solitude of the repast fractured only by a wheezing, twitching, slow to settle homeless guy who decided that sitting at the table next to Bob was just the place he wanted to be.

Given our duo were sufficiently watered and fed, a plan to see the Eiffel Tour at sunset was hatched. But first they strolled over to Pont Alma and enjoyed the huge outdoor photo exposition at the Quai Branly next to the river. Of note, the French have a huge sense of mixing the ancient with the modern; liberally sprinkling art everywhere in the city. Walk down the street and up pops a 15th century sculpture and hey, is that a giant thumb?

So they whiled away the sunset at the Trocedero fending off souvenir hawkers and watched the kids go round and round on the carousel. As the night came on, so did the lights of the Eiffel Tower. And while the view looked warm and inviting, it was actually quite cold, so they scampered back to their billet by the Louvre by way of the Metro.