Last holiday I went to Paris. I visited museums and sat in public gardens. A friendly waiter taught me a few words of French. Then, he lent me a book. I read a few lines, but I did not understand a word. Every day, I thought about postcards. My holidays passed quickly, but I did not send any cards to my friends. On the last day I made a big decision, I got up early and bought thirty-seven cards. I spent the whole day in my room, but I did not write a single card!Whom did the writer meet in Paris?