My 25 and 27 inch bags were heavy for me. They were heavy too for the taxi driver who left me on the sidewalk of rue Saint Jacques. I ignored the curmudgeonly buildings crowding around to glare at my intrusion and entered the Maunoury's appartement building to make my weary way up the worn wooden steps to meet the host family. Then I remembered with distress that the French 3^rd floor is the Americain 4^th floor. When I reached the "third" floor, Madame Maunoury ushered me to my little room which a monk inhabited in the 17^th century. That is why the wooden stairs are so smooth.

Though fatigued, I thought it impolite to refuse dinner with Madame and Monsieur Maunoury. We dined for two hours. Towards the end of the meal, Clovis (this is Monsieur Maunoury’s aritist name) reached for a casette tape and to my surprise and delight, the heavy voice of Johnny Cash rolled out of the Sony player. If there was any question before, I knew at that moment that I liked Clovis. Monsieur Maunoury used to paint and is a musician, an actor, and a writer. When he was young, he sometimes played in the dungeon of the jazz bar Caveau des Oubliettes which Kyla and I happened to go to last night. I had le specialité Rhum Rhum avec canelle. The coral colored liquid was refreshing and sweet. The evening hours passed quickly in the stone room below the street while listening to the smooth and lively tunes of French jazz.