Sadly, Bordeaux is something to drink (or with my friends a favorite See's candy), not a place good for tourists to wander after dinner. So I have spent the evening starting a soap carving for Emily (my internet friend normally at Harvard studying abroad in Italy whom with luck I will meet for the first time in Venice). I'm carving her name, as tradition dictates, decorated with a butterfly and two people. I hope it survives transportation. Paris has street cleaner brushes, as Pomona (and London too) did.

This hotel in Bordeaux has doorknobs that seem to epitimize French style. They are cylindrical with a wedge removed from the underside: not at all ergodynamic, visually catchy, simple yet noticable.

I still have Gershwin's Summertime in my head, from when Pop-Pop taught me it on the harmonica this afternoon.

Summertime, an' the livin' is easy,
Fish are jumpin', an' the cotton is high.
Oh, yo' daddy's rich and yo' ma is good lookin';
So hush, little baby, don' you cry.

One of these mornin's, you goin' to rise up singin',
Then you'll spread yo' wings an' you'll take the sky.
But till that mornin' there's a nothin' can harm you
With Daddy an' Mommy standin' by.