Imagine upon waking that your first sight of the day is two guys hanging from ropes on the building across the street. They are washing the windows without so much as any platform on which to stand or place their supplies. They were rappelling down the building on long-ass ropes from the top of a 9-story building! I hope they get paid a lot of money. We tried not to distract them while taking pictures and gawking. Would hate to be responsible for them falling.

We waited in line for the Opera Garnier to open to see if we could get tickets for the Bolshoi Ballet, but they are completely sold out. :( So, just toured the opera instead. I say "just" like this is somehow a letdown. Not! There was no one there yet, so I was able to take pictures of the grand staircase with no one on them, as well as the incredibly ornate reception hall with no one in it! This never happens. Met a lovely woman from Scotland, Sandra, who tagged along as I was trying to get upstairs so I could get into the theatre. Every staircase was closed for renovation, so a workman told us of an elevator that took us right up to an open loge that we could get in to to see the theatre. We had that to ourselves too! Glorious. We were able to get great pictures of the famous chandelier and ceiling painted by Chagall. Sandra said "would you like me to take a wee picture of you?" in her charming accent that sounded just like Charlie's mum from "So I Married an Axe Murderer". When I asked if she wanted me to take one of her, she said "good Christ no, me wee ass looks huge in pictures." Apparently wee is a multi-use word...

Since every surface of my feet is now damaged in some form or fashion, I was forced to buy some new shoes. Normally this would have been a wonderful and much-anticipated task, but I was forced to buy the only ones that would fit my swollen feet. Which turned out to be the world's ugliest shoes... Wait for it... Birkenstocks. Now I look not only like a tourist, but a lesbian too. So pissed to spend money on these.

Next we went to Madeline, a beautiful old church that looks like the Pantheon with Corinthean columns all around. We took a short walk up Rue du Cambon to (taking a deep breath to compose myself) the ORIGINAL Chanel store. This is where Coco lived and designed until her death, and this is where the famous mirrored staircase from which she would view her fashion shows from the top step is. Needless to say, my humiliation at walking these hallowed halls in Birkis was almost more than I could bear, but I was able to soldier on. I'm sure Coco turned over in her grave. My apologies...