The French eat these swell sandwiches, which would never fly over here, for lunch: About a foot long piece of great baguette, split open with a single layer of some addition like ham or cheese, or roast chicken. You see folks munching them on the metro, in the parks, as they walk along. Alec and Sharon had their favorite place, le Boulangépicier, an Alain Ducasse eatery. We stopped there for lunch one day, and bread another, it was so good. We grabbed sandwiches at another boulangerie, I don't recall the name, one of Ren's faves I think, en route to the Tour Eiffel, and ate along the Seine. About this time, Ren expounded at length on how she had noticed that France is full of balls. And tits. The dogs all have their balls, the statues all have balls, or if they are females, they all have tits. We walked along noticing the balls.
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