 | I guess I just wasn't in the mood for Paris. It was the end of August, and the weather was cold and wet and windy. The whole city felt strangely abandoned, and whenever I met someone who didn't despise me for speaking English, it was because they wanted to hustle me into an alley and rob me blind. The only residents of the city who I felt affection towards were the gypsies playing music on the subway cars; otherwise, above ground, my favored companions were made out of metal or marble. |
| The courtyard of the Louvre, just in case one wasn't feeling cold and damp enough already. |  |
 | Still, the city was not without its charms. I had to wonder who the sole occupants of the giant ferris wheel were. Perhaps someday I'll return to Paris when the weather is better, with a french-speaking guide who knows the city, and have a much better time. |
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