IN THE GARDENS OF VERSAILLES

I look for a good spot to share our picnic lunch. There is a young couple out in the middle of the canal in a gondola. The boy is fishing and the girl waves at us. The girl is wearing an old fashioned red riding habit.

"They are the first friendly folk I have seen here. The place seems to be dead today."

"Friendly folk? What friendly folk?"

I turn and point again in the direction of the young couple sailing on the canal. Now they are gone! Where could they go in a few seconds time?

Now it looks like it might rain any soon. We hurry toward the Petite Trianon. It will be a welcome sanctuary.

I am weary of carrying this basket. Djari offers to give me a hand.