Lynn Yaeger Spends the Weekend in Paris

Trekking to France to shop for history, 40 years after Mai '68

I take a seat at one of the cafés and order an espresso, though what I really want is a delicious American coffee with milk and sugar, something that even fearless me is too intimidated to order in France, where apparently they only drink coffee with milk as a part of a $27 breakfast. I fish my BlackBerry out of my purse and am happy to see its little red light flashing, despite the time difference. News from home! I click on the message, and this is what it says: "Go for the zip, zing, and zest during National Horseradish Month." (For this I'm paying $95 to T-Mobile?)

How quickly the weekend rolls by! You take one stroll across the Seine, you flip through a couple of fashion books at the Musée de la Mode, and pretty soon, it's time to disable the smoke detector in the plane on the way home. For some inscrutable reason, all the newsstands at Charles de Gaulle are shut tight (un grève, peut-être?), so I can't stock up on Tatler and British Vogue, my usual indulgences for the trip back, but am instead reduced to a copy of Le Figaro, which they give out for free in the airport. I flip it open, and here's what I see: an ad for EasyJet flights from Paris to Biarritz with a picture of a stiletto and the legend "Sous les talons, la plage!"

Under the high heel, the beach! And under the beach, buried deep in our imaginations, maybe the paving stones.

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