Considering what our predicament might have been without Herr Grimmelspacher's help, the rest of the trip to Paris was uneventual. We had learned at German train stations to look for a chart on every platform showing exactly where every car of every train would stop, so you can stand near section "C" and know that your car -- no. 51 -- will stop right in front of you. Chris found such a chart in the Strasbourg station, where we had to change. So we trotted out to section Y, but before the train pulled in, a guard started herding everyone further up the platform, toward section T. Turned out several cars had been dropped, and our car now was stopping at section R. We survived the stampede of people trying to get to the correct cars.
At the Paris Gare du Nord, Jane Gillette met us and escorted us to their apartment at the Maisons Alfort, at the southeastern edge of the city. Dale and Jane had a series of short-term rentals for their three-month stay, and they had requested a larger apartment for the time we would be staying with them. But they hadn't been able to get into it, or even see it, until the morning of our arrival. They were dismayed to realize that it was, if anything, smaller than the one they were having to vacate. (They seemed to exist in an adversarial relationship with the usually uncooperative management.)
So all four of us slept in one big room. The first night, after we had all made our individual forays into the bathroom to get ready for bed, we all settled in, we talked a little -- just like a Scout camping trip, Jane remarked -- and then there was a chorus of "Goodnight, Chris, goodnight, Jane, goodnight, Kay," and Chris responded with a line reminiscent of the old TV program, The Waltons: "Goodnight, Dale boy!"
We rode the Metro several times every day and quickly realized how strenuous it is. Unlike most of the subways elsewhere in Europe, the Metro has almost no escalators, so we spent a lot of time going up and down stairs to get to and from the various levels. Often, in transferring from one line to another, we had to go up a flight of stairs, then walk a long passage, then go down another flight to get to the right platform. Bottom line: The Metro is an exhausting way to travel.
Market
Sunset riverboat tour
Louvre/ D'Orsay
