Mysteriously, I seem to be in Paris. It feels familiar and yet totally unfamiliar. I guess 11 years is a long time to be gone. Since my sense of direction is pretty terrible, I’m trying to use visual memory (and the Metro map) which sometimes works brilliantly, and sometimes not so much. I am staying on one of Paris’ many many narrow winding streets. However it reaches the Seine, so that is very helpful.  Can’t really miss the Seine. Yesterday was about getting here via Eurostar, the train that runs under the channel. Super comfortable and fast and easy. But Paris is intense, in a way I did not find London to be. Yesterday after arrival, was mainly about exploring and getting lost. Today, I made my way up to Montmartre and Sacre Coeur, with its amazing view of the roofs of Paris, The journey from the Metro stop to street level involved 7 long flights of stairs and then a continued journey upward to the top of the city. I passed by the warren of studios, where Picasso and other famous artists lived and painted. They had wild and wonderful lives—in addition to being masters of painting, they definitely knew how to have a good time! And then finally to Sacre Coeur.   The usual, heavily-crowded and crazy scene outside the cathedral and all the way down the steps that lead to it was there. But inside the cathedral only deep silence. Had a most beautiful and transforming meditation. I also noticed that all the sadness from WWII that had lingered there for a long time was gone. 

Photos below: one of he most beautiful streets in the world winding down from the cathedral, and my favorite grove of trees in Kew Gardens—a sacred circle of Himalayan birch trees.