We were supposed to catch the 9:04 train to Chartes this morning.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to wake up at 7:30. So I reset for 9, with plans to catch the 10:20.

9 happened but I wasn’t. Final reset for 10, and by that time I really didn’t have a choice, what with TC’s near meltdown.

Arrived Gare Montparnasse and once again, TC demanded I ask ridiculously stupid questions … That line of there are no stupid questions? Oh yes there are.

I was forced to ask an SNCF employee, who no doubt used me as his topic of dinner conversation, if we needed to compost our tickets before boarding.

Stupid because yes! It says to do this on the ticket. Stupider because I’ve ridden at least 20 trains throughout France, Spain, Belgium and the Netherlands. This is what you do!

TC, however, wasn’t convinced and was “experiencing visions” that we were going to somehow be fined. I truly have no earthly clue how he spent decades in a high stress, high pressured job when he can’t even get on a train sans a massive increase in blood pressure.

Chartes, ever the charming town, a mere 47 miles from Paris, felt much farther and removed.

Always have had a thing for the smaller towns. When you can get me out of Paris. That’s the thing – I step half a foot in Paris and don’t want to leave. Ever.

Speaking of leaving … I swear, my heart feels like it just dropped to the floor … Two days. I am … At a loss.

I know there’s no logical raison to be sad, yet I am. Devastated is more like it. Let me be in denial on that for the remainder of my two days.

Chartes.

This cathedral will knock the pants off of you. Sounds better and more shocking than socks. Despite the cold wind, I couldn’t stop gawking, walking the perimeter. Just utterly blown away.

I find it much more impressive than Notre Dame {de Paris}. And the windows! All that stain glass!

If you have a heart condition, don’t go. Seri. Your heart will want to burst from beauty perfection and straight up love and holiness.

This is what happened to TC and he has a heart condition, so he’d know.

Our evening was spent hauling up the stairs of La Tour Eiffel – to the deuxième étage. Yes, we walked some 600 stairs.

Each step we took, was like me burning off a Nutella crepe. That means I can have at least 15 more prior to departure.

For any of you planning a Paris getaway – I highly suggest walking the first two stages of the Eiffel Tower. Not only is the line super quick and short – you get an entire perspective you otherwise miss and personally what I think is the better view on the first and second tiers.

I was amazed … The web of metal and the pure architectural wonder that it is. Such a greater appreciation for the mastermind Guatave was!

The best part was tossing some of my Pop and Pepster off, the wind carrying them throughout the Parisian night sky.

Who knew that people’s ashes {dogs, too} are literally just ash?!

Yeah! I had no idea either! I’m talking if you took my pop and a pile of my fireplaces ashes and put them next to each other — I’d have no idea which is what and who is who.

I suppose it’s true then … We are all made up of the same stuff. Comforting to know a part of my Pop is now here, too.

His presence being felt.