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A Monday morning and I felt less sad. Allison was gone. I had eaten breakfast of bacon and eggs and had shaved. I was creating a straight-edge contour beard. Then I was sitting around taking it easy, smoking my pipes and drinking my tea. I drank a lot of tea. The weather was great before the day before. I hit rain from Cherbourg halfway to Paris. Paris was sunny and warm yesterday and partly cloudy and warm this morning. I was at a camp-ground just outside of Paris next to a river. Two rivers actually on a narrow peninsula. The night before I walked down the road and watched the river barges go through the locks.
This was my favorite campsite of the whole trip. It was on the outskirts of Paris on the Seine I think. I don't remember how I found it. Sometimes I went to tourist information places down-town in the cities or to the train station. I first went to the main Paris campsite. It was wall to wall tents spaced inches apart. Not for me.
This camp site was on a peninsula actually, with river about a quarter mile from my feet as I lay in the grass at my site, and about two football fields from my head the other way. There was a great deal of river traffic at my head with barges plying up and down. I was in a glen of short grass, with a thicket of trees and shrubs all the way around, and no one there in this spot, except a guy with a pup tent and a scooter. He had hair down to his waist and finger nails like tentacles.
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