At Last, the Adventure, Such as it Is, Begins

The first great thing the little horse was able to experience was a French breakfast. Croissants. French bread. The freshest, most delicious butter in the world. Café au lait.
It was almost as good as oats.

Then off the little horse went, with his four elderly companions, to figure out the metro system. Paris has a wonderful subway system—you can get anywhere on it. And each train line has its own color so the maps are not too hard to read. The little horse waited impatiently, pawing his hoof, as the grown-ups studied the maps. What was taking them so long? He had figured out the route to the Louvre ages ago.

Are We There Yet?

That is how the little horse found himself tucked into a backpack, squeezed under a seat, on an overcrowded plane flying to Charles DeGaulle Airport in France. The flight left at 6 o¹clock at night and arrived at 9:20 in the morning, but only took eight and one half hours. How could that be?



The little horse whinnied and pawed at the backpack. He was eager to be loose and on his own. But the grownups would not let him roam. He had to wait in the backpack for the van to drive them to the Hotel Minerve on the Left Bank. At last Sallie, the youngest of the very old adults, unzipped the pack and let him out in the hotel room. It was a very tiny room, just the right size for a little horse, perhaps, but awfully small for two grown up people and their suitcases. The little horse took up residence on the bedside shelf that was just big enough for him and a book.



He was determined to finish Mademoiselle Misfortune. He thought he might find some good advice in it for traveling with old people. Here he was, filled with energy for a day of exploring, but the old people seemed to be going to bed before the day had begun! And can you believe--they were watching TV. The French Open was underway. What would you rather do--explore a beautiful city like Paris or watch tennis on TV in a language you can¹t speak?