Hubby went around the area for the umpteenth time. No luck. As close as they were to Notre Dame, they couldn't find a parking spot for the minivan. They'd found a spot for Simone's car but that was 45 minutes ago, when they were already thirty minutes late. The kids were getting impatient and everyone felt hungry - save for little B because Simone had brought him some food and fed him during the car ride from Normandy.
"Only two days left to our trip," grumbled hubby. "And we're spending one of them looking for parking. This is ridiculous. How do you park something this size in Paris?"
Simone shrugged. She didn't have any answers. "It's Sunday," she suggested at last. "Maybe you can park in a loading area. Most of the stores are closed on a Sunday."
And that, finally, was what they did. Everyone trailed out of the van and walked toward Notre Dame, Simone guessing the direction they needed to take and hoping that her usual poor sense of direction had taken a hike. She managed the general direction (the Seine is that way, was okay) but more precise info (Notre Dame is ...) was lacking. Fortunately, hubby's phone came with GPS.
There, waiting in front of the cathedral, were D and J, longtime friends who'd patiently waited for Simone et al so everyone could go out for a bite to eat together. Simone smiled at the sight of them and the stress of the past few hours dissipated. Suddenly packing suitcases, groceries, emptying the rental house of trash, cleaning the premises, loading everything into two cars (because nine people fit into the minivan but not with their luggage) and then finding their way into Paris meant nothing.
Isn't it wonderful how good friends can bring such joy to your heart?
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