Not much time left in our Paris jaunt! Here are last graves for your enjoyment.
I took this picture for my dad because I thought he might know who this Jazz pianist is.
And this is the joint grave of Heloise and Abelard. Its okay if you don't know them. Actually, their story is a little creepy, looking at it in a modern perspective. Back in the 1100's, Heloise was 13 years old and Abelard's student. He seduced her, she had his child and then her father had Abelard castrated. Why anyone would give them joint tombs I don't have any idea.
After massive amounts of shopping, we met Laura, Ian and Cozette for a lovely dinner at our favorite local crepe restaurant. That of the square crepes from earlier in my recountings.
And how can I not post such an adorable picture of Ian in one of the world's tiniest elevators.
The next morning Mike and I got up early to catch or plane home. When we got to the metro, our tickets also let us through to get o to the train. When we arrived at the Paris airport, however, our tickets would not let us OUT. There were no ticket counters that we could get to, so we (and pretty much everyone else that we saw) had to perform gymnastics with suitcases and bodies and hike ourselves over the bars and into the airport.
Then we couldn't find any human help to aid us in finding our departure gate; we were stumped until Mike noticed an electronic helper that gave us the info we needed so badly. We looked pretty "chicken with its head cut off" before that. The lines weren't too bad and we had a very nice ticket agent help us with the electronic ticketing, which didnt like us for some reason.
We had a change of planes in Atlanta on our way home. I noticed a gentleman who looked an awful lot like Merrill Osmond, but I didn't say anything to Mike at the time. We had managed to talk our way onto an earlier flight to SLC, so we didn't sit next to each other on the way home. I got off the plane pretty easily, but I was surprised when Mike took quite awhile deplaning, because he was only one row behind me. When we reunited, he started complaining about some old ladies who held up the entire back section of the plane, not letting anyone pass in front of them while they arranged all of their stuff. Then he asked me if I had seen Merrill Osmond on the plane, which I had. After a bathroom break, we saw the old ladies and heard them talking amongst themselves. One said to the others, "Did you see Kenny Rogers on our flight! I can't wait to tell -so and so-." Mike and I just looked at each other and laughed.
Well, we made it home and the house was still standing. The kids and Autumn had survived. We gave Tyler all of his gifts, and Krista a couple. But she got all of hers the next day - her birthday! I think she liked having the Parisian presents!
This picture is from outside our rooms. Each set of rooms is two large rooms under one roof. Each side has its own shower, so you could have strangers sharing your hut, but we just had the children. In order to get to the village, we had to walk across that stretch of beach every time. 
This is how the locals get stuff from the village to the resort. I wish I had had a private donkey to take me back and forth across the beach!
Her ewe all are outside of our hut. We had a nice porch; Tyler had a great time playing with all of the different sizes of crabs constantly scuttling around. We even found one inside our shower one morning.
Here are my feet haning out onthe beach. Tyler liked the hammocks slung under private awnings.
This is one of two docks in the bay. Every evening this group of people would come and fish off the pier. Pretty much every person that worked at the resort lived up the river that projects from behind the bay. 
Here inside the kids room. The only things you can't see are the chest of drawers with closet bar and the bathroom/shower.
Here is Tyler with his cusins in El Segundo. The second day of our vacation he stepped on a bee and it didn't heal well. He was swell, instead. So, we cut things short and headed back to the US.
