I know, I said I didn’t take any pictures in Paris this time.
What I meant was, I didn’t take any pictures except for the Catacombes.
I totally got pictures of the Catacombes.
(At least, as many as I could, while being forcibly hurried along by the impatient guard behind me – “Mademoiselle! C’est ferme!” – me who didn’t seem to realize that the place was absolutely fascinating and that the variety of injuries on display would put a textbook to shame and that this was the first time I had seen so many bones all at once. Or maybe he did realize and just didn’t care.)
How did I manage to go to Paris three times before this, and never go down into the Catacombes? (How?!)