Another Invasion

The Woodruffs visited us in waves as part of their family gathering in the footsteps of Grandpa Ken, a genuine WWII vet and Normandy invader. Above is Rod and Beverly with Ken at the entrance to Parc Floral, deep in our largest park, the Bois de Vincennes.

On the way to Normandy

The first visit was a week earlier by the third generation, Sharon and Elizabeth, in transit from London to the airport to meet up with the rest of their brood. Here's a photo of them in the Palais Royale…

…and in front of that Louvre thing:

Being and Nothingness?

Our Saturday walk started in our neighborhood around the Bibliothèque Nationale where Rod agreed to pose with my favorite outdoor statue, that of the other existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre.

Experienced Paris visitors, the Woodruffs asked to see the sights rarely seen by the tourists so we obliged with a few of our favorites including the Chateau de Vincennes at the far East end of our small town. After walking through the old fort, we ventured into Parc Floral, home of spectacular flowers (but not all that spectacular in mid August), and Weekend Jazz concerts (we heard an all pluck band from Spain).

Swamped

Afterwards we ventured into the land of funk, the Marais, at Beverly's request. Fortunately most stores were closed so we could get her out of there before dinner (barely). Nearby we found remnants of an ancient city wall built by Louise Phillipe in the 12^th century as he did not want to leave the place defenseless while he went out on a crusade. (Obviously Ken wasn't around then).

Playing Catsup

Before we knew it, it was dinner time at their train station, the Gare de Lyon, where we ate at the 100 year old Train Bleau restaurant, a feast for the eyes as well as the belly. Here's a photo of the crowd:

And here's one of Elizabeth adding the ultimate condiment to a cuisine noted for its sauces:

Trapping Tourists

Not everything was out-of-the-way, of course. Here's the three of them in front of a frequently visited Louvre Pyramid, the largest museum in the world (or at least outside of Texas):

Second Sunday

Sunday found the Woodruffs scrounging around our gritty Northern suburbs in search of flea markets and the St. Dennis cathedral, the French equivalent of the Westminster Abbey. (You've got to bury those people somewhere). Then we were off to St. Chappelle, on the way snapping this picture of two women very lonely for their Texas roots:

And we sign off with this photo of just Beverly and Rod:

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