It's all here.

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At first, my hotel room was a little disappointing—very small. Both the bath door and the big window hit the bed when open. I’ve come, however, to find it very homey. Light floods in from the large Parisian window. I'm on the sixth floor—looking down on a lively street. It's very clean and has every thing I need. Across the street you can see in the windows of other travelers, just doing their thing. It's all, and more, of that romantic Paris that I remembered—and imagined.

After the harried and demoralizing experience at the train station, everything has improved and people have been great. One student ran a block to give me a paper I'd left with her when asking for directions. My room wasn't ready when I arrived, so I took a stroll down the street, and there was a little market set up in a park. Vendors were selling fruit, flowers, cheese, meat, clothing—anything you could want . I had just bought a baggett on the street and stopped at the cheese place. This cute young guy asked what I wanted and I shrugged and showed him the bread. He said "Oh, sandwich" and took the baggett, cut it, selected a delicious cheese which he sliced and put in the bread. Voilla! I had lunch.

My spelling—which is never great—is taking a beating with this French keyboard. Plus, there’s no spell check on the travel blog. My hotel’s neighborhood is lively, full of people and all kinds of little shops. On every corner is a cafe selling coffee, wine and food. I'm planning on spending a lot of time in these.

When I eventually get back to the hotel, I'm so exhausted from 18 hours of travel, and being up since 3:00 AM, that I hit the bed for some deep sleep. When I later wake up, I need money and dinner. Downstairs, the evening clerk and his friend are trying to help me out. It's too late to change money, but they tell me I can find a brassier down the street for food. They say 25 E is enough—it’s all I have after purchasing the train and metro tickets.

I soon learn it’s midnight, which is a surprise since it was light not too long ago when I awoke. So at this late hour, I head down to a cafe and dine on a nice salad, beer and sorbet for dessert. Plenty of people are on the street, including couples, so it feels safe. The cafe has a bunch of guys outside drinking, smoking having guy fun and the waiter is flirting with two Australian girls. My meal is very good and I'm totally comfortable.

On the way back to the hotel, I pick up some fruit and water at an all-night store. It’s now 2:00 AM and I’ve had no cause to be concerned about the hour.

I'm staying on the Rue du Monge in the Latin Quarter in the 5th Arrondissement. Paris is sectioned into about 20 districts and each one has it's own flavor. The 5th is where the artists, students, writers etc. settled back in the early days, and it hasn't changed much since—except that now it’s more mainstream and less bohemian.

There are all kinds of shops selling specialized items. Some of them are so odd that you have to wonder who buys this stuff—things like monster statues and action heroes, or dusty little wooden statues or just table linens and old-lady house coats—very peculiar. The two things I was looking for—an internet cafe and a small little grocery store were eluding me.

Everything is done on a smaller scale here. Seems like many things are contained in a 2' x 2' cubicle—the elevator, the shower, and also the computer closet. You need to keep your elbows in when you use these things. The weather has been cool and most days have had some rain. It's all been mild and rather pleasant. I'm appreciating my umbrella—they’re made for walkers.

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