France-tastic

Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes are needed to appreciate what you've got. Sometimes you need some time away from it to really see it. Sometimes burnt out shopfronts and cars, and teargas dispensing riot police are needed... oh wait, forget that last one. But in the last week or so, the first two have made me newly appreciative this ole place I call home these days.

A quick Eurostar trip under the channel and the land of double decker buses and bad weather greeted me, as did a rather furry looking familiar face (lucky he did, because I promptly forgot my PIN number and would otherwise still be trying to busk together a fare out of Waterloo!)... He then spent most of the weekend trying to eat bird poo.



Rather than waste too much time on museums and churches (we have them in Paris too), Matty and I spent most of our time doing what we do best - sitting in pubs and drinking beer! Throw in the occasional steak and guiness pie and an english fried up breakfast and that's about that. We did manage to fit in a trip to the Tate Modern, a spin around the Eye, and we skirted Westminster Abbey a few times, thinking about going in, but the crowds scared as back into the safety of a pub. So since this was our chosen theme, I'll give you a quick analysis -

PUBS: Too many chains, what the hell is going on with those? I thought pubs were the one thing you could count on in this country?

WARM, FLAT ALE: Not so bad, but they can keep them.





The wierdest thing was how wierd I found speaking English! I speak english a lot here in Paris, but speaking to random people, i.e. not friends, like ordering a coffee or saying excuse me to people on the street, was really wierd! I wouldn't have thought it would be such a big thing, but it was a very strange feeling. It is very strange that it feels more normal to speak french to randoms, even though (obviously) my french is not quite at the level that my english has reached in the last 18 years or so)! All I can say is: wierd.

And after this whirlwind (or at least cold and windy) tour of London, back to Paris with Matt in tow, where he was introduced to the idea of being unable to speak to people without the use of mime. And awaiting us was spring!! 20 degrees!! Literally! (It didn't last though, this morning I walked to work in 4 degree weather.)

Having Stinky Matt here was, of course, very smelly horrible nightmare-like fun! Although rather tough on both liver and belly. Apero hour rolled around very often and was followed by endless feasts of ducks, snails, crèpes, meat, cheese, cheese and meat (yes, combined: steak and gooey melted Reblochon, a Camemberty-type cheese... YUM!), cheese and bread, cheese and crèpes, all washed down with rivers of red wine.

Aside from all the eating, I had plenty of opportunity to show Paris off, and I got the chance to enjoy a few tourist times myself! Bones aplenty at the Catacombs and windy views from the Arc de Triomphe. Mosaics at the Sacre Coeur and strolls down the Champs Elysées (not only because we missed the last metro home...).





Now alas, he has left me, on the 9.34 to Nice this morning, and I am back to drinking alone, with only my memories to sustain me. And Johnny. He'll always look good in leather. Johnny, that is, not Matt. Unless he finds a jumpsuit.