I absolutely love Sundays. By Sunday morning, the city is relaxed, either thankful to be awake or blissfully still sleeping. There is never any reason to start trouble on a Sunday.


A puppeteer, not an accordion player or guitarist, joined my morning metro ride. In a matter of minutes, he had set up a curtain, started his boombox, and performed a three-charactered hippie puppet show. This truly made my day and perhaps even my entire trip.

Ascending from this magical netherworld, I passed an outdoor café and several men smoking cigars. Never once in my life have I been the slightest bit intrigued by a cigar, but at that moment, I would have killed a man for one.

Objective Truth: Sometimes when people find out you're American, they ask if you know Michael Jackson.

Song: Peter, Bjorn, and John - Paris 2004