In April 2004 I went with Wini and her daughter, Diane, on a long trip from Maine to Paris, France.
I couldn’t see anything on the plane, since I was packed in the luggage. But I nearly fell out when one bag was opened and examined by the security agent. He looked all through the contents, and Diane could hardly get it closed again.
We stayed near the Sacré-Coeur, a beautiful white church in the Montmartre section of Paris. Wini wanted to stay in Montmartre since so many artists had lived here in the past
