My birthday came and went last weekend and it marked by the dawning of a new era. Not just of being 22, an age which I consider to be "over the hill", but also because Oli and I got the keys to our new apartment. I said a reluctant goodbye to 18 rue Gerando and moved (in several tiresome journeys) my things just 4 stops down line 12 to 110 rue Caulaincourt.
After much fierce negotiation and discussion we settled on our 48msq apartment dubbed by Oli as "a blank canvas". 48msq is massive I hear you cry? Well yes, it is obscenely enormous! Adding this to the fact that the price is no more than you'd be paying for a place half the size in the so-called centre of Paris and we've got ourselves an absolute steal! 1 bedroom and 1 sofa bed will see us adopt a weekly rotation policy which should work out fine as we've ingeniously put a sheet on each side of the mattress (my idea).
Despite the obvious that Oli isn't in fact a Bachelor, I am still declaring it a Bachelor Pad. Simply becuase it has the feel of a young adult's home. We are without internet or TV for the time being (although there is a TV as old as both of us combined which we hope to use) so we have been left with simple conversation and reading to fill the time, a throwback to the "Good Old Days".
All this served to round off a great weekend made all the better with Jack and Rob having come from the UK to stay with us. Next up this weekend is family time and a very nice 2 day holiday. I've just got to figure out what to do with them now....
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Never Stop Running
As I've mentioned before the busy streets of Paris is not the ideal place for me to run. Having said that on Monday one such run took in the delights of place Republique and l'Arc de Triomphe, not bad. In the interest of keeping things fresh I set off north, just a short time ago, aiming to get to le peripherie (the main road which sounds Paris and keeps all the bad things away), take a left and then come back through the vibrant Place de Clichy.
As I said. That was my aim. My success on Monday was seemingly a one off as I ended up in Saint Ouen, just OUTSIDE le peripherie. Absolutely bricking myself when I realised I turned around immediately and set off at a furious pace until I found the nearest metro stop, assuring me I was back inside where it was safe. I went down a main road for a while playing " Spot the non-dodgy looking man" and then took a left down Avenue St. Ouen and toward civilisation. I had started to slow my pace, perhaps it was the shuffle's fault for putting on Lighthouse Family or perhaps I was simply tired. Anyhow, this lady saw me coming and veered towards me and said something. I took one ear out and lent in for a second attempt to catch what she was saying. Failed. I took both ears out and asked her to repeat, it dawned on me slowly as I took in what she was wearing, or what she wasn't wearing more like, that in fact she was a prostitute. My colloquial French isn't amazing but I'm pretty sure she was offering me some sort of package deal. Do I take that as a compliment??
As I said. That was my aim. My success on Monday was seemingly a one off as I ended up in Saint Ouen, just OUTSIDE le peripherie. Absolutely bricking myself when I realised I turned around immediately and set off at a furious pace until I found the nearest metro stop, assuring me I was back inside where it was safe. I went down a main road for a while playing " Spot the non-dodgy looking man" and then took a left down Avenue St. Ouen and toward civilisation. I had started to slow my pace, perhaps it was the shuffle's fault for putting on Lighthouse Family or perhaps I was simply tired. Anyhow, this lady saw me coming and veered towards me and said something. I took one ear out and lent in for a second attempt to catch what she was saying. Failed. I took both ears out and asked her to repeat, it dawned on me slowly as I took in what she was wearing, or what she wasn't wearing more like, that in fact she was a prostitute. My colloquial French isn't amazing but I'm pretty sure she was offering me some sort of package deal. Do I take that as a compliment??
Bonjour Tristesse
One of the many delights that I've unearthed here so far is a quaint little weekly magazine detailing everything that's going on in Paris (I lie, Oli told me about it but I have poetic license). Whilst casually browsing through I spotted that Bonjour Tristesse was playing, a French film from the 1950s novel of the same name. It had particular nostalgia for us as we studied the book for our A-Level French. It was decided that this would be our Orange Mardis film for this week.
It was in a small, independant theatre in the Quartier Latin and despite the fact that they didn't, in fact, participate in Orange 2-for-1 schemes, we payed the €6 each and entered. Much to our amusement the ticket booth man told us to head to the Salle Rouge, the Red Room, when the only way to go was through this one door which brought you immediately into the cinema covered wall-ceiling in red velvet (or suede, I'm no fabric expert). Evidently there was another "Blue Room", but we couldn't figure out where you'd have to go so his directions seemed pointless.
There was a small speech before the showing by a film critic specialising in 40s and 50s cinema. Having come straight from a 4 hour lecture I paid him little attention so I've no idea what he was saying apart from picking up that he was using a lot of English terms. Oli and I both realised, seemingly at the same time, that we'd forgotten the film was actually in English. Not to worry though, as it started we both concluded that it was still really cool to be where we were...
It was in a small, independant theatre in the Quartier Latin and despite the fact that they didn't, in fact, participate in Orange 2-for-1 schemes, we payed the €6 each and entered. Much to our amusement the ticket booth man told us to head to the Salle Rouge, the Red Room, when the only way to go was through this one door which brought you immediately into the cinema covered wall-ceiling in red velvet (or suede, I'm no fabric expert). Evidently there was another "Blue Room", but we couldn't figure out where you'd have to go so his directions seemed pointless.
There was a small speech before the showing by a film critic specialising in 40s and 50s cinema. Having come straight from a 4 hour lecture I paid him little attention so I've no idea what he was saying apart from picking up that he was using a lot of English terms. Oli and I both realised, seemingly at the same time, that we'd forgotten the film was actually in English. Not to worry though, as it started we both concluded that it was still really cool to be where we were...
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
Small Fish, Big Pond
My bid to remain fit whilst in the land of cheese and wine has been a struggle so far. Be it the requirement of a doctor's note to play Rugby or of speedos to go swimming my path seems consistently filled with obstacles. The total chaos and anarchy down at Piscine Georges Drigny (they don't have lanes for differing speeds, it's horrible) as led me to take up running again. I shouldn't complain as I have any number of landmarks to plot my course around, be at down along le Seine or across to le Tour Eiffel, but I don't like running with people around. As with the swimming I need to get a rythmn going and it's not possible along the streets of Paris with the hoards of people. Add this to the fact that on all 6 of my runs thus far I've got totally lost and I'm not a happy bunny.
This wouldn't happen in the leafy suburbs of Cheshire....
This wouldn't happen in the leafy suburbs of Cheshire....
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