Well, changing web servers has really messed up my journal. I think I have lost all that I wrote for May and June, so will try and put in what I've done here in Paris this month.
The Tour de France started in Paris on June 6th. They are celebrating the 100 year anniversary of the tour and are doing the same route that was done the first year. As before, the bikers go by so quickly that they are almost a blur. I did get a few photos.
Don't know who this is, just know he isn't on the US Postal team
This rider beat my camera
Biker in enclosed area getting stared at and photographed
During the race we walked around the area close to the Eiffel Tower and each team had a huge bus with a shaded area set up for the riders to warm up. Avid fans got to get photos and autographs and the press did their thing. We found the US Bus but couldn't see any of the riders I guess to control the crowds wanted to see Armstrong.
Another thing I am having fun with is buying at local brocants-a type of flea market-where there is usually a mix of professionals and amateurs trying to make a buck. They don't allow the American type of garage sell here so people sell their things at this special street markets. I've been buying enamelware and just looking-hoping to find things for our place in Provence and save a little money.
I kind of like this cow head
I've been roaming around Pere Lachaise again in search, this time, of angels. Being a cemetery, there are many. Every time I go I look about and spot wings all over the place.
I liked that this was metallic
The flowers someone placed here looked great
Not an angel, but I like this lady
My favorite weeping lady from behind looking at her view
Tons of people still go to see Jim Morrison's grave and do a lot of graffiti while there
I don't understand this obsession with Jim Morrison. All of the people there were born after he died. I think it has a lot to do with drugs, to tell you the truth. A young guy with long hair and a tie dyed shirt was sitting there, meditating I guess, after lighting a candle. I suppose that Morrison still lives through his music for them.