Paris Pants

Paris Pants

Ah, what can I say about the city of lights except that all things delicious begin with the letter C: champagne, croissant, chocolate chaud, canard.

My French editor, publicist and translator were an absolute dream. The festival, hosted in the affluent suburb of Vincennes proved elegant and stylish in a way only the French could manage.

John and I dashed about Paris, trying to see as much of the city as we could. Okay, by dashed, I mean lounged languidly in cafes.

Highlight of our stay: on the night of a swishy reception, John was refused entry into the American Embassy. A secret handshake and exchange of microfilm later, all was made well.