So, here we are again, in the City of Light, nearly all of that light generated by electricity, given that Paris has been sunk in a not-atypical late-October cloud of gloom.

But, still …

We landed at gray Orly, after taking the Transavia flight from sunny Valencia.

Transavia is one of Europe’s dozens of budget airlines, and the first I have flown. Not an empty seat in a Boeing 737 (the Southwest Airlines workhorse), but not too awful an experience because it was 1) a nonstop and 2) we each had an aisle and 3) they sold food and drink for not-outrageous prices — and 4) we were in the air only about 100 minutes.

The ride into town was a bigger test.

We landed at Orly in time for the rush hour, and the “other” Paris airport was jammed. By the time we escaped, via a crushingly crowded bus to Place Denfert-Rochereau, perhaps best known as being the metro stop for the Paris catacombs, night had fallen.

Our choices then were humping two bags and two backpacks through the subway system during rush hour, which would have been complicated and strenuous, or just paying the freight of taking a taxi.

Weirdest. Cabbie. Ever.

He made a few half jokes, discussed all the additional tarifs we would be paying, and for the next half hour shouted at his wife over the phone as they argued about legal affairs. And not for the first time, it was clear. (If any fare were half as loud, a Paris cabbie would have pulled over and demanded they get out.)

So, through the 14th and the 5th and the 1st and the 11th, with the bellowing of our driver — who managed not to run over any of the thousands of pedestrians we saw.

And, voila, we were there.

Dog-sitting. That is why we are in Paris. Friends are in the states, working on gaining exposure for a very fine book about an overlooked World War II unit while we look after their affectionate Westie — overseeing walks and his social schedule, which includes twice-weekly visits to a dog park.

We are in the 11th, an arrondissement full of life and energy and close to several major sights, including the Bastille, the Place de la Republic, Pere Lachaise. It seems likely we will find most everything we could need here; neither of us have spent much time here, on the right bank, about halfway between the city center and the peripherique.

After finding the apartment, which has an interesting layout on the grounds of what was once a foundry, we had dinner in the new Italian restaurant next door, and it was very Paris-y and upbeat.

At night, you don’t know Paris is cloudy.