In which our intrepid heroine encounters gargoyles.

6:32pm

Louvre, Seine

A few minutes ago, I stopped to rest my (very) weary feet and check out the little church or chapel opposite the Louvre.

An old man who'd been standing behind a similarly old lady seated on another bench approached me, I thought perhaps he was going to ask if I could take their photo.

He said something in French, (the irony of being able to say 'I don't speak French', in French, has struck me since those fateful Year 7 French classes) I said I don't speak French, he asked if I was Deutsch, I said Anglais, he said, "oh, English", I said I spoke English but actually I was Australian, he said "perfect" and made a funny face at me. I just looked at him and while I was immobile he brought his face closer to mine.

I started to back away and he asked me for a kiss, bringing his face closer to mine. As I noticed that his mouth was open I realised that he didn't mean a kiss on the cheek. His face had hairs sprouting from all kinds of peculiar places, half his teeth were gold and those that weren't had gold fillings, making the total about three-quarters gold, quite a treasure chest (or cave) indeed, and yet somehow my resolve remained firm as I said, "no, sorry".

He smacked his lips together and brought his face closer still, as if to show me what I was missing out on, I said "no" again and he finally backed off.

So, anyway, while he was still shuffling off, the sun made a brief appearance and that's when I took this photo.

When I left he was pretending to inspect the railings of the chapel.