In 2008 I was suffering from near terminal burnout, which in this case is simply another way of saying that I was feeling deeply sorry for myself. In November I took off for Paris on an impulse and spent a week wandering around the city alone. Shall I now report on experiencing some grand epiphany there or some great new love or a spiritual reawakening of some sort in that cultural center of western civilization? The truth is that I have no idea what the point of it all was at the time or what the point of it all turned out to be. I can state with some confidence, however, that going to Paris is never, ever a mistake, not even in November. One cannot say better than that about anything.
The irony behind the photo is that the métro crews went on strike in the middle of my stay there. Even with my refusal to deal with the cab drivers, my itinerary was not affected at all. I had no itinerary, which I hold is an entirely valid manner of going about that city.