Well it’s “nice week” chez scaryduck and it has inspired me to (attempt to) sing the praises of things I love about Paris today. Looking back over the archives, many of my posts have been rants so far – so it is only fair. After all, I ‘m the one who chose to live here. Before laying eyes on the Frog. I must have had reasons?
*racks brains*
Here goes…
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I confess I get a thrill out of the dddrrrriiiinnng noise that my navigo metro pass makes when I go through the ticketless turnstile without removing it from my bag. Occasionally the little green arrows light up without the noise sounding and I am left feeling very cheated indeed.
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The sublime view from my balcony, across the rooftops of Paris. You should be able to see the glorified pylon that is the Eiffel Tower, but it is hidden behind an inconsiderate block of flats across the road. But I spy with my little eye Notre Dame cathedral and the Tour Montparnasse, and those funny coloured tubes on the inside out Pompidou centre.
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Crèpes sold by street vendors in paper cones – with Nutella dripping out of the bottom, pains au chocolat from the bakers when they are warm and the chocolate is runny. Miam, as a French person would say.
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The Marais: a backdrop of stately, ancient hôtels particuliers where you can imagine Dangerous Liaisons being played out by aristocrats in powdered wigs. And all that inaccessible modern day male eye candy.
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Frequenting the kind of cinema that doesn’t sell popcorn and where people have been known to clap and cheer at the end of a particularly good film.
Five things. Not a bad start, but I don’t think I could keep it up all week…
Agree with all of those … and finally I’ve realised what those ‘different’ ticket barriers are – I was wondering.
Comment by Lauren — September 23, 2004 @ 1:14 pm
MMMM, nutella. mmmmmm. pains au chocolat….. mmmmmmm. I insist upon visiting you!
Comment by madge — September 23, 2004 @ 1:15 pm
Spent some time in France for the first time this Easter, near Liseux. I cant believe Ive not visited the place before. The best bit for me (other than Honfleur, Deauville and Trouville) was cycling down to the local somethingerie in the morning, trying to communicate in my pigeon French and peddling back with fresh bread.
I did want butter, but thats another matter.
Just a great way of life.
Comment by watski — September 23, 2004 @ 1:16 pm