Abenteuer Sechsundzwanzig: die Wochenende

My next few days were fairly uneventful. I had to run to catch my flight to Paris: however, I'm really glad I elected to fly. The trip over the Mediterranean and the Alps was really beautiful.

In Paris I had serious issues with train tickets and wound up not really seeing much (aside from a Turkish ghetto, a hipster farmer's market, a petting zoo, and a VERY cheap department store--because, of course, I had to buy a dress in Paris).

Fortunately, I had already been to Paris and done all the touristy things a few years ago, so I wasn't really disappointed. In a  way, it was nice to see that Paris is a real city with real people living it in--it's not just the Eiffel tower and the Louvre.

...art?

Mr. Sheepbutt was not feeling very photogenic

I think this guy was probably french

 Due to the problems I had with the trains, (and with calling a taxi cab but not speaking any French), I didn't arrive at my Great Aunt's house until late at night--I'm afraid she though someone had kidnapped me.

I was exhausted after the day of trying to deal with Parisian rail systems--fortunately, she had a glass of champagne waiting for me. And I must say, it was nice to get a looong night's sleep in a place that wasn't sketchy or full of complete strangers.

I spent the weekend relaxing at my aunt's house, eating all her food, and letting the blisters on my battered, tattered feet heal.

Sunday, I took the train to Saint Louis. No, I didn't see the arch.
From Saint Louis, I walked to Weils am Rhein in Germany (the shopping center place) and from Germany I walked back to Switzerland, making sure to jump in every fountain.

After all my travels,  it seemed weirdly fitting that I should walk back across the border. And no one bothered me--after all, the border patrol doesn't work on Sunday. They have a mailbox by the checkpoint where you can leave a note declaring anything you deem necessary.