Ambulating up the left bank of the Seine, I approached an elderly woman walking from the opposite direction. At about three or four meters distance, she stopped suddenly, stooped to the sidewalk, and arose with a shiny gold ring in her hand.
What luck for her! She appeared amazed and immediately wanted to show it to me. Wow. Very shiny. I couldn’t understand the next part, even if part of it was sort of in French. She might have been smilingly deriding Amerika, or she might have been offering to give me the ring, just to share her good fortune.
I expressed that I already had a gold ring, and that she should keep the found object (she didn’t look particularly well off, at that). But she insisted, and wrapped my fingers around it as she appeared to bless both of our good fortunes.
Strange enough, I thought as I walked away.
Then I heard her again, calling me back, and asking, apparently, if I just might be able to spare a Euro or two for a cup of coffee. My luck was obviously with me, so it would be nice if I were to spread it around a bit. At that point, but probably a little before, I realized that the gold shiny thing was a bit too light to be gold, and that this was likely a scam. I thanked her again and returned the ring, certain now that she had the thing palmed when she first reached to the ground, and only pretended to pick it up off of the ground.
Ah, Paris in the late autumn. Cold. Dreary. Bleak. Complete with scamming gypsies. And cold. Did I say cold already? Maybe not that awfully cold. Not as bad as last time, but totally overcast, which doesn’t provide the best of light for image collection.
The Government wants me in Djibouti, and there’s few ways to get there. The non-preferred route runs through Chicago, Frankfort and Addis Ababa. Not that Ethiopia would be bad, but it is an extra leg (i.e. and extra take off and landing) and on the Ethiopian national airline, and it’s this last part that I would like to avoid. Hence, Route A, through Chicago, Paris, and straight in to the Djibouti International Airport, but with a large layover in Paris.
So, with about 16 hours in country, what to do? First, waste an hour on a delayed arrival, then find a dayroom at the Hilton to dump the bags, find a map and directions to the Metro, and hit the town about 1100. Since it was a *day* room, checkout is 1800, less about two hours on the train to and from downtown, doesn’t give much time for the whole grand tour thing, but let me tell you, five or six hours is an ample enough dose of France.
All I wanted to see was a Gauguin painting at the Musee D’Orsey. One of my associates wanted to see an arch at the Louvre. The other wanted to see a couple of the public gardens. The third was delayed leaving CONUS, and gets to fly through Addis Ababa.
As these were all downtown, we got off of the Metro at Notre Dame, took a few pictures, crossed off of the island and headed downstream. Sometime after we saw the requested arch, I found a cheap sandwich, then the gypsy.
Later, while approaching the Eiffel tower through that big park that’s there, I approached a tall black youth walking from the opposite direction. At about three or four meters distance, he stopped suddenly, stooped to the sidewalk, and arose with a shiny gold ring in his hand.
What luck for him! He appeared amazed and immediately wanted to show it to me. Wow. Very shiny,...
Wait a minute. I think I know this one. Sorry, I told the man, but I already know this scam. He smiled and continued on, thoroughly non-nonplussed.
Shortly thereafter, while assisting a newlywed couple with a photograph, they asked if I, too, had been “conned by the Gypsy” (that’s how I knew they were Gypsies). Sadly, no, but I couldn’t commiserate.
Shortly thereafter that, I assisted a young woman with her photograph, having seen her with a Polaroid held at arm’s length and trying to simultaneously focus and frame the shot. Holding the photograph, I was a bit surprised to see that it was of a poodle. She got the shot she wanted though, of the Eiffel Tower, the Polaroid poodle, and the helpful tourist who held the photograph for her. I would have taken the same shot.
Seemingly endless miles later, while returning to the Metro station, I approached an elderly woman walking from the opposite direction. At about three or four meters distance, she stopped suddenly, stooped to the sidewalk, and arose with a shiny gold ring in her hand.
What luck for her! She appeared amazed and immediately wanted to show it to me. Wow. Very shiny.
Hey, I laughed, you’re the same woman as on the other side of the river! She laughed, too, and continued on her gypsy way. We found our train and returned to the airport.
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