Wow, it has been a whopping four months since my last post here, four months in which I have worked at work, driven hundreds of miles and watched many, many hours of television. I also have read a few books – I’m now working on Salman Rushdie’s Joseph Anton, seen some bands, eaten lots of interesting (and not so interesting) things and in general, lived as my brethren do, inching (though sometimes it feels more like slaloming) into that eternal dirt pile waiting for us all.
Sheesh, sorry guys, didn’t mean to get so weird there at the end. Anywho, rather than bore you with (apparently halfhearted) promises of writing more and recommitting myself to The Artistic Pursuit, I’ll just get on with it. Perhaps some of you are still slightly interested.
So…without further ado, I bring you:
CityBoy, that Man among Men, took yours truly to that eternal city of love and light and cheese (Yes, I said “cheese.” You have your Paris, I have mine.). We spent a (mostly) magical week there from late September to early October, just in time to celebrate our one-year anniversary (of marriage – not chicken-keeping or Victory-gardening, which I understand is now a thing with many of my contemporaries but not something CityBoy and I personally enjoy, not that there’s anything wrong with either pursuit).
I thought I would love Paris, given my love of cheese (already mentioned), my love of fashionableness and my love of classical architecture. I was not disappointed. I mean, look at this place:
And these are just the highlights from Day 1 and Day 2! I’m going to post more and write more about our experiences there, but let me just say this: don’t be afraid to go to Paris. The Parisians (for the most part) are just as friendly and helpful and kind city-dwellers as you could hope for. Some of them are exceedingly wonderful. Some are not.
But what they do best, and what we could all aspire to, is infuse more common courtesy and civility into everyday life. One key word that will help you tremendously while traveling through the city is “bonjour” (good morning). Say it to everyone you meet before peppering them with questions or demands and they are ten times more likely to help you muddle through ordering your café (or espresso, as we know their version of coffee) or direct you to the nearest toilette (bathroom).
More later, but for now, here’s one last photo from Day 1:
Sick, isn’t it? Now I see why Marie Antoinette supposedly said, “Let them eat cake.” The friggin’ place makes you want to just swan around in your impossibly ornate finery, eating insanely decadent food and in general ignoring those sad sacks who don’t have it this good.
A bien tôt!