We sped out of Paris faster than you could say “Peripherique,” the mighty ring road around the city, and zoomed into the countryside, the glorious countryside made golden by an abundant summer sun and paint-worthy by the proffered harvest of yellow butter-balls of hay lobbed into fields Van Gogh like even with those big black crows in the fields beside them.

Why would anyone want to walk seven miles along the Washington mall? There are plenty of logical reasons. There is no parking. You are some kind of walking guru. Or, in my case, you want to see the MLK Jr. 50 year anniversary speech. Maybe you could compare this short walk to the March on Washington.