It’s a good thing a picture’s worth a thousand words because I can barely type tonight. My computer says 3:45 p.m. but it’s more like 1 a.m. in Paris, France.

We left Salt Lake at 5 p.m. on May 5 for a 10-hour, uneventful, direct flight to Paris. No one smelled bad, the food was decent, I had one cocktail and there were soooo many great things to watch on the behind-the-seat TV.

The only issue was that I flew coach and felt like a moth in a hard-shell cocoon. None of us got any sleep. Everything aches now and I’m desperate for zzzzzs. So here are my “words” from our first (short) day in the City of Lights.