Bonjour Mes Amis

Just got back from a very splendid jaunt to Paris and look who I bumped into.

There I was, minding my own business and thinking about dinner, when I became aware of a crowd, a serious police, or gendarmerie presence and not a little euphoria. Almost at once we realised someone important was due. We stared, waited and perused.

The language barrier was a, well, a barrier, so I couldn't ask anyone without risking receiving that unique Parisienne stare that they do when you speak in English. I waited, C waited and we knew the arrival of someone famous was imminent. The helicopter hovering overhead added to the buzz and sense of anticipation.

We knew that it was someone important, though not on the Rajapaksa level, as the roads were open over on the other side of Paris and businesses hadn't been forced to close for the week.

Then, from out of nowhere, quicker than even a Lankan bus driver he was there.

I peered at his face, I noticed a strange squint, as if he was straining to get out a very large poo. It mattered not, I was too aghast, too chuffed that I'd finally seen him, the man I and so many admire so much.

Even from that distance we could feel his charisma and charm. I swear he smiled and waved at me, but can't be sure as it happened so quickly.

In a few seconds he disappeared and the cavalcade, bigger and longer than even the best fairground merry go round, was gone.

It felt like a dream but I know it was a brief moment of reality.

I wish I'd stopped and got my photo taken with him but I can't have it all.

Yes.

I saw RD.

Barack Obama.