Out of Libya

I made it. I’m out of Libya and have moved on to a much more dangerous country – France. Think I’m kidding? It’s statisically possible I’ll be mugged here. And I spent much of the day looking at paintings and artifacts inside France’s largest terrorist target. Say what you will about Libya – it isn’t dangerous as long as you keep your mouth shut and only engage in note-taking behavior behind closed hotel room doors.
I’m in France because of a booking error. So I’m “stranded” in Paris for two days. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Hell no. I just spent a week in a physically and culturally arid totalitarian police state. Boy, is this place a sight for sore eyes. I can’t tell you what a soothing balm the St-Germain des Pres neighborhood is after wandering around a spiritually pulverizing Soviet-syle metropolis imposed on the good people of Libya by North Africa’s Caligula. Yeesh, what a place Tripoli is. No hopping resort town, that. You’ll “love” my photos when I can post ’em.
I’ll be home shortly. Enjoy the guest-blogging in the meantime. (Thanks, Jeremy, for keeping the blog warm.) Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I didn’t get any turkey, myself. I had camel instead. (Yes, really.)
Cheers.