Got up very late for some reason. Picked up the IHT and Le Monde (for a change). 3,90 euros for the two if you are interested.

Sandy ran in the Jardin. I worked until it was time to head to the Métro as our friend Joe had arranged for us to go to the French Open at Roland Garros. Saw Federer and Nadal  each crush their opponent (Federer, the Spaniard, Martin; Nadal, the Brazilian, Daniel) in straight sets. Very fun. Sandy had tried to get us tickets on line earlier but the website (www.rolandgarros.com) was user-unfriendly, something like a few (but very few) French folk we’ve met.

Actually, we have learned that a French person’s initial reaction to a question or request is “Non, ce n’est pas possible.” But if you push even slightly, especially politely (and in French, if possible), it almost invariably changes to a positive response. Very enlightening.

Tried a terrific new place tonight in the 7th, Le 122, funnily enough located at 122 rue de Grenelle. It’s a quiet area at night, housing a number of government ministries and, sadly, we were the only diners. Too bad for the locals who weren’t there, though. We hope the charming owner survives, let alone thrives.

Finished the bottle of 1966 Calvados that we brought back from Normandy, watched TV and called it a day.