In researching this trip to France I had read about a cheap chain of department stores called Monoprix. They are similar to a Target store. Everyone had praised these stores as a place to get decent quality items for reasonable prices. I was interested in checking this place out and since we had long gift lists to fill we were anxious to find one. I had read that they were practically on every corner, yet we had not run into one so far. I decided to ask Marie Claude if there was a Monoprix nearby.

     "Oui, bien sûr!" She told us. "Only a couple blocks away. Right across the street from the Moulin Rouge. You know where the Moulin Rouge is right?"

     The Moulin Rouge was only a couple blocks away? We got directions and headed off to find it. Out to the square, take a right, go down the street to the left of the bakery one block and there it was. It was interesting to see the large red windmill on top of the building across the street but I was more interested in this Monoprix. We went in.

     It was fairly small, being in the city as we were, but nevertheless we found much to occupy us for the next hour or so. We looked at soaps and perfume, greeting cards and house wares, lip gloss and clothes, body wash and dishes. We spent a long time just trying to translate the greeting cards. There was a security guard by one of the doors that we had to pass by every time we walked from the soaps and medicines over to the house wares and stationary – which we did many, many times over the course of time we were there. He had a very stern look on his face the first few times we passed by which after a while hinted at amazement and disbelief. "How hard is it to pick out a bar of soap?" He must have wondered. We were finally able to come to decisions, make our purchases and leave.

     We jumped a train down to the Champs Élysées. Before we could even exit to the street Jayné got sucked into a touristy gift shop in the Metro tunnel and I had to follow. The Indian proprietor was very helpful and patient with us. After spending what seemed like an eternity in there, we finally emerged successful, with many more gift purchases under our belts – things such as cheesy thimbles and shot glasses, and scarves which he assured us were real cashmere. At last we were in the fresh air again!

     Crossing to the center of the Champs Élysées we stood on the center median of Paris’ most famous street and let the cars whiz by us on both sides. This was our last day in Paris and we had not yet visited the Louvre. We were running out of time! We began to make our way that direction. We stopped in more souvenir shops along the way and admired the street artists at work. On coming upon Angelina’s Salon de Thé we just had to go in to try some of the hot chocolate they were famous for.

     The salon was bustling with people. Waiters and waitresses were running here and there. They seated us in the back, up a few steps on a slightly higher level than the main room. Our table was tucked in a corner between the kitchen door and an open archway looking into the main room. We couldn’t have asked for a better table. From our spot we could both sit with our backs nearly against the wall and be able to gaze about at our surroundings. With no other tables next to us we had a private corner to talk undisturbed. The room was painted with frescoes alternating with large gilded mirrors. There were marble topped tables, chandeliers, elegantly carved crown moldings and pillars.

     We ordered l’Africain chocolat chaud along with a cheese plate and anxiously awaited its arrival. The waitress brought our bread and soon the food arrived. Our cheese plate was a pretty sight with a leafy green salad on the side of our three cheeses and a large pat of butter. The chocolate came in a pitcher with a bowl of freshly whipped cream on the side. We poured the thick, dark chocolate into our cups and topped it with a dollop of whipped cream. It was so incredibly thick and rich, as if someone had taken the finest quality solid dark chocolate bar and melted it into our cups. I was in chocolate heaven!

     We lingered over our artery clogging lunch and just talked. It was so nice to be in our own little quiet corner with a good friend, good food and good conversation as the bustle of the tea salon went on around us. "Plus pain sil vous plais." We asked when our bread ran out. "Et un carafe d’eau." When our chocolate was gone we scraped the sides of the pitcher and our cups with a spoon to get every last remaining drop. (The only thing to mar this experience at Angelina’s was a very bad no toilet paper in the bathroom stall experience. I won’t go into details but suffice it to say it was rather uncomfortable.)

     When we left Angelina’s it was late in the afternoon and we decided we needed to head to the Louvre without delay. I thought the museum might be open until 8 p.m. I didn’t think it would close any earlier than 7. But when we arrived and found that it closed at 6 we were dismayed. That didn’t give us much time in the museum but there was no helping it. We were leaving Paris in the morning. We just had to take as much advantage of the two hours remaining until closing as we could.

     We bought our tickets and used the bathroom. We both wanted to see the Moabite stone so I led the way through the Richelieu entrance and a confusing maze of rooms to the oriental antiquities section where it was located. We spotted Jehovah’s name in ancient Hebrew on the smooth black stone. By the time we had done this it was about 4:30. Jayné wanted to see the Mona Lisa. I was not interested in seeing Mona again. Last time I was at the Louvre we had spent all our time with the paintings and there was an entire wing of objets d’art and decoratifs that we did not get to see. We just had to split up. I showed Jayné on the map where to find the Mona Lisa, warned her that it was confusing to navigate this museum but that she should ask directions if she got lost, made arrangements to meet at 6 p.m. in the lobby and we went our separate ways.

     I found the wing with Napoleon’s apartments and wandered quickly through them, lingering only over the most impressive pieces – like the 10 foot chandelier that hung over a circular red velvet sofa and the dining table that seats 42 people. The courtyard with the Greek sculpture I had visited before but I’m always drawn to its serene calm with the natural light filtering down from the skylights three stories above and the soft echo of people’s voices wafting through the marble floors and walls. I find the architecture of the Louvre just as fascinating and beautiful as the works of art that adorn it and I lost myself just wandering the many rooms, admiring the columns, stairs, archways, and the multi-colored marble floors.

     Just before 5:45 p.m. I was in the lowest, most remote corner of the basement admiring the Islamic art. I noticed about 5 security guards standing against the farthest wall. At exactly 5:45 there was an announcement or the PA system that the museum was closing and the guards began sweeping the room. They asked me to exit. I got ahead of them a little bit and stopped to look at a few more things and snap a few photos. Soon, they were breathing down my neck and I would move on again. I went to the central escalator area and all the up escalators had stopped but the down ones were still moving. People were obediently leaving the museum en masse. I was not ready to leave yet so I quickly ran up the stopped escalator to the upper level where I began to frantically snap photos. I was taking some photos out the window when all the security guards who had swept the upper rooms (about 12 to 15 guards) came up and asked me to leave now. I begrudgingly got on the still moving down escalator and when I got off at the next level I was met by another group of about 12 to 15 guards. I quickly asked one if I could take a photo out the window. He motioned me towards it and I snapped one photo and he was at my elbow to escort me down. Rebel that I am I snapped two more frames before putting my camera down and getting on the escalators again. All the guards got on behind me and followed me out. So I was escorted out of the Louvre by at least 30 security guards and I can without a doubt say that I was the last guest to leave the entire northern half of the museum, possibly the entire museum itself. It was two minutes till 6 when I found myself in the lobby again. So when they say the museum closes at 6 that actually means that the rooms have been cleared, the janitor has swept up, the doors are all locked and the employees have gone home and popped open a bottle of wine by 6 p.m. sharp.

     I waited in the designated spot for Jayné and a few moments later she showed up looking flustered and distraught. She began blathering on about getting lost and wandering around, finding stairs but not the right stairs, asking directions, getting sent here and there and finally ending up in the main lobby at 5:32 and not being allowed back in. She asked, she pleaded, she begged, she cried to no avail. There were some slight exaggerations involved like: "I came to France just to see the Mona Lisa!"

     So she did not get to see the Mona Lisa after all, and didn’t see much of anything else in all her wandering and searching. She met two very nice security guards along the way who told her she could come back tomorrow and they would let her in for free to see it, but that would mean leaving Paris later and cutting into our Versailles time since the Louvre didn’t open until 9 a.m.

     We spent some time in the gift shop and I told Jayné she should buy a post card of the Mona Lisa in case she never got to see it. We needed to find Internet access so we could send e-mails to the guys to let them know we were safe. We had not yet done so. There was an internet place near our room so we stopped off briefly to drop off our purchases before moving on.

     A couple of days before we were in the grocery store and we had decided to buy the cheapest bottle of Bordeaux for fun to see what it tasted like. We found one for €1.85. When we entered our room and saw the bottle sitting on our mantle we decided it was time to pop that baby open. Whipping out the corkscrew we had purchased at Monoprix that morning and grabbing two coffee mugs from the salon we popped the cork and poured ourselves each a mug. We took a sip. It wasn’t too bad. Not bothering to take our coats or scarves off since we were just going out again we sat on the edge of the bed and drank our mugs of wine. When the mugs were empty I filled them up again. After all, we were leaving in the morning and couldn’t pack half a bottle of wine with us!

     I’m not aware of how much time passed, but I do know there was some singing about Mona Lisa, lots of laughing, and we were suddenly speaking eloquent French. (At least we thought we were!) "Actually, I’m liking this wine more and more the more I drink it!" I said to Jayné

     We eventually made it back out the door and around the corner to the Internet place. We figured out how to log on and to access our e-mail. We began to type. Wait a minute! Our sentences looked like gibberish! One bottle of Chateau Bois de Naud and suddenly everything’s upside down! Actually we realized that the keyboard was not quite the same as ours. There were several letters that were mixed around and you had to hold the "Alt" key every time you wanted a period. So we had to resort to the hunt and peck method which was very time consuming, especially after a bottle of Bordeaux.

     We got a couple of e-mails sent off and decided to walk down to the Moulin Rouge to see what it looked like at night. The bustling intersection was even more bustling than it had been in the daylight hours. We stopped for a few night photos, but what had been a normal street in the daytime had turned pretty seedy after dark so we went back to our rooms and crashed for the night.