A Fuzzy-headed View
We pull ourselves this morning, bleary-eyed and foggy-brained, out of bed and down the dark, unfamiliar hallway to our laptop…where we sit now wondering what’s going on in the world this early…what is it? Monday morning?
A friend once confided that he has a rule: “I never make an important decision within 24 hours of any trans-oceanic plane ride,” he explained.
“In such a jet-lagged state, who’s to say what I might do? Better to wait until the brain’s had a little time to adjust…”
Our connection in Newark was delayed six hours yesterday due to snow, and we arrived in Paris much later in the day than expected, when the sun was already setting on the Sunday that we’d managed to lose to in-flight movies and time change.
We ventured out for dinner last night to find that this city is as we last left it, two months ago, only dressed now for the season. Boulevard St. Germain, where friends have kindly put us up these first couple of nights, is strung with tiny white lights. Storefronts are draped with pine garland, and shop windows are decorated with little green trees and gold and red baubles. No one does shop windows like the French do shop windows.
The news feeds tell us that, in Ecuador, President Correa has declared he’s not going to pay his bond bills…not that he doesn’t have the money to pay…simply that he’s decided he’s not going to. What does this mean for the foreign investor or retiree in Ecuador? Maybe nothing. We’ll follow up further later in the week.
Right now, in our jet-lagged state, with all Paris on our doorstep, it’s too much to resist the temptation to give in to our seasonal agenda. The plan is to pick up the rental car this afternoon, stop by W.H. Smith (the best English-language bookstore in the city) for a guidebook on the South of France and a good road map, then we’re off early tomorrow for the drive to the coast, where we’ll meet up with our daughter Christmas Eve.
I’ll be in touch from the road.