Mom dragged me from cafe. Now posting from Kindle.

Tour bus en espanol. Guide tells us all about Louis Catorce. Do not actually speak Spanish. At Versailles, the deluge. Freezing cold. 55 degrees but extreme windchill. We switch to English tour but v amazing interior like Tokyo subway at rush hour. Obligatory tour then marches us all through garden. We are drenched and freezing. Umbrellas turn inside out. Funereal music plays. Mom says she feels like we are being marched to guillotine.

At mediocre tour lunch I drink several glaases of mediocre wine in hope of warming up.

More walking. Wine not helpful. Should have drunk more. Half of tour bails on seeing Marie Antoinette peasant village and sits in tour bus for hour and a half. Myself included.

Back in Paris we learn that Paul has purchses pricy theatre tickets for us. I am torn between preferring to go to bed and excitement. Moulin Rouge?!

No. He has kindly selected something in English. It is Mama Mia. The ABBA musical. He has also delegated his hadsome son to escort us. I look like a drowned rat.

At theatre we learn as curtian rises that Mama Mia has been translated into French. Songs included.
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