We arrived in Paris by bullet train on Thanksgiving afternoon. Despite the fact that Parisians don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, an American holiday on this day in November and a Canadian holiday in October, they seemed to be in a celebratory mood all evening. Our tiny, cramped room at the Hotel Duquesne Eiffel has a view of Le Tour Eiffel if you lean far enough out the screenless window. Shortly after our arrival, the lights came on, as if to welcome us to gay Paree! Donna, Charleen, and I walked to La Rue Cler, a bustling, quaint street, now somewhat commercialized, with bistros and shops all decked out for Christmas, to meet friends from the cruise for Thanksgiving dinner. Mixed signals prevented our rendevouz and we missed them. Since Joe has developed a cold and he preferred the comfort of his hotel room, the three of us enjoyed a stroll through the area and lots of excellent wine, Beaujolais Nouveau as an aperitif and later at another restaurant, a couple of carafes of red Côtes du Rhône Appellation d’Origine Protégée. Our Thanksgiving dinner was a salad with puff pastry encrusted goat cheese and a risotto with chicken and wild mushrooms. Sadly, the restaurant in which we dined did not offer foie gras, so I was unable to substitute it for giblet gravy.