Tired Feet

I'm finding that I'm liking Paris. For those of you who have been here, that's probably not a surprise. Me, I'm not sure what I was expecting. Perhaps it is the seven years of French that I've forgotten that make me feel "at home." Certainly, trudging on my tired feet to see the golden palace of Louis IV that I memorized so much about back in those junior high days was a good decision (no matter that my feet didn't thank me later). In the context of that ongoing question of when should one push oneself and when should one let up, Versailles is a "push yourself" kind of day (and I'm grateful that I'm plenty physically able to do so, tired feet and all). (pics to be added when I have easier WiFi access) The place gives new meaning to the word, "chateau," however. Or at least, I rarely (sic) that original "palace" meaning.