As I left for the airport, Seattle was brilliant in the delightfully unexpected sunlight of a cold winter day and I arrived in Paris to the weather I should have had in Seattle -- cloudy and relatively warm.  But Paris is like the beach -- the weather really doesn't matter -- and the day has improved all the way along.

My apartment is a true atelier in the heart of the Latin Quarter -- perfect for a student.  And the views were as promised. Not only of Notre Dame, but also of the oldest church in Paris,
St. Julien-le-Pauvre.

The Rose Window of Notre Dame

L'Église de St. Julien-le-Pauvre

I've spoken as much French as I possibly can including some catastrophic faux pas.   I just keep smiling and saying "Bonjour" and "Merci" and hope that will smooth over troubled waters.

I'll tumble into bed this evening hoping that in the next two weeks France will perform its "mission civilatrice" on me.