Did I ever tell you guys how much I hate flying ants? Well, I do. A lot. Guess what's everywhere around my house today? Hate them. So. Much.
The rest of the day has been good - I have Done Shopping, and bought dresses and jeans and stuff. I may do More Shopping later this afternoon, depending on whether I can be bothered to leave the house.
I have also seen a friend's new flat (Lovely. So jealous.) and been to a BBQ. I could go to the park this afternoon. I should do laundry and food shopping. I'll let you know which one wins...
Saturday 25 June 2011
Tuesday 21 June 2011
Blah day
Today's been a rubbish day.
It started badly, when I knocked my coffee flying reaching to turn the bloody alarm off this morning. Made worse when I spilt its replacement down my sleeve by trying to drink and walk down the street at the same time. At which time, I also discovered I've buggered my ankle up, and now can barely walk.
Work's been a series of blah non-events, interspersed with stress and frantic activity. I feel like I've achieved nothing useful today.
Then, it's Fete de la musique. While I'm not a musical person at the best of times, the main way this has impacted on my life is that apparently, everyone else in Paris is. And they all need to use my metro line to get wherever it is they're going. I had to let 6 trains go past before I could get on one, which was so packed I could barely breathe. Leaving the train soaked in sweat, I find that they're setting up a drum set (or whatever the technical term is) at the end of my road, so that will be fun later.
And my husband's run away back to the UK so I can't even bitch to him about it.
And the bread I bought to have with/as dinner is stale.
I am considering retiring to my bed and refusing to leave it until things have improved. I may be some time.
It started badly, when I knocked my coffee flying reaching to turn the bloody alarm off this morning. Made worse when I spilt its replacement down my sleeve by trying to drink and walk down the street at the same time. At which time, I also discovered I've buggered my ankle up, and now can barely walk.
Work's been a series of blah non-events, interspersed with stress and frantic activity. I feel like I've achieved nothing useful today.
Then, it's Fete de la musique. While I'm not a musical person at the best of times, the main way this has impacted on my life is that apparently, everyone else in Paris is. And they all need to use my metro line to get wherever it is they're going. I had to let 6 trains go past before I could get on one, which was so packed I could barely breathe. Leaving the train soaked in sweat, I find that they're setting up a drum set (or whatever the technical term is) at the end of my road, so that will be fun later.
And my husband's run away back to the UK so I can't even bitch to him about it.
And the bread I bought to have with/as dinner is stale.
I am considering retiring to my bed and refusing to leave it until things have improved. I may be some time.
Saturday 18 June 2011
Round up of my week
Because I know you're all just dying to know... (And because I have the memory of a sick goldfish, and if I don't take a note of it, I'll forget.)
It's been a busy week:
Now, it's pissing it down - it's been alternating absolutely heaving with rain with periods of bright sunshine and blue skies today. Schizophrenic weather. But I feel all virtuous and grown up and rich, having done my tax return for 2010-11 already. Not only did my teeny jewellery business actually make a teeny profit last year (which has, of course, already been spent - on Eddie Izzard, amongst other things) but the tax people owe me much money. Which means I can have my new laptop earlier than I thought! Success!
Photos of Paris during a sunny phase this afternoon:
It's been a busy week:
- Monday was a bank holiday, and it seems oh so long ago.
- Tuesday was making up for Monday having been a day off but otherwise a normal day at work.
- Wednesday there was a big work event (I still have blisters from having to wear heels and dress up. I need new shoes. And new clothes.)
- Thursday was manic. I think I was at my desk for a total of about ten minutes. A friend was up from Nice, so we had lunch. (Yes, manic work patterns are tempered by the sanctity of the lunch break in France.)
- Friday we had leaving drinks for a friend at work, followed by dinner with a variety of artists - mostly from Nottingham. Which was awesome, if a little random.
Now, it's pissing it down - it's been alternating absolutely heaving with rain with periods of bright sunshine and blue skies today. Schizophrenic weather. But I feel all virtuous and grown up and rich, having done my tax return for 2010-11 already. Not only did my teeny jewellery business actually make a teeny profit last year (which has, of course, already been spent - on Eddie Izzard, amongst other things) but the tax people owe me much money. Which means I can have my new laptop earlier than I thought! Success!
Photos of Paris during a sunny phase this afternoon:
Tuesday 14 June 2011
The Emperor's Baguette
Yes, I am fully aware of the innuendo implicit in la baguette de l'Empereur (The Emperor's Wand *nudge**nudge**wink**wink*) But that is genuinely the name of the bread I bought today.
I assumed that the woman in the bakery this evening was just correcting a mistake in the name of the bread I wanted (a common occurence, given the variation in some types of French bread is very slight, occasionally only discernible to the baker themselves, seems to me) when I tried to order a baguette à la tradition this evening.
"No,no, Madame, this is the Emperor's baguette," she says, somewhat dramatically.
"Ah, I'm sorry." It looks like a baguette à la tradition to me. "I'll take it anyway."
She duly wraps it in a special blue Emperor's Baguette bag - at which point I notice the corresponding sash the poor woman is having to wear. I pay whatever extortionate price a baguette à la tradition with extra fancy naming commands (€1.20, if you're really interested) and take my freshly baked, warm baguette and wait for my change.
She produces, declaiming dramatically into the cupboard under the counter, a spoon. Apparently, if one is to eat the Emperor's Baguette, one must have jam. And if one is having jam, one must have a jam spoon. Et voilà. I am now the proud owner of a jam spoon. And an Emperor's Baguette to have with dinner. (Chorizo, white bean and tomato stew, in case you're interested. I knew you would be.)
Pictures, just because it entertains me greatly, and this is my blog:
I assumed that the woman in the bakery this evening was just correcting a mistake in the name of the bread I wanted (a common occurence, given the variation in some types of French bread is very slight, occasionally only discernible to the baker themselves, seems to me) when I tried to order a baguette à la tradition this evening.
"No,no, Madame, this is the Emperor's baguette," she says, somewhat dramatically.
"Ah, I'm sorry." It looks like a baguette à la tradition to me. "I'll take it anyway."
She duly wraps it in a special blue Emperor's Baguette bag - at which point I notice the corresponding sash the poor woman is having to wear. I pay whatever extortionate price a baguette à la tradition with extra fancy naming commands (€1.20, if you're really interested) and take my freshly baked, warm baguette and wait for my change.
She produces, declaiming dramatically into the cupboard under the counter, a spoon. Apparently, if one is to eat the Emperor's Baguette, one must have jam. And if one is having jam, one must have a jam spoon. Et voilà. I am now the proud owner of a jam spoon. And an Emperor's Baguette to have with dinner. (Chorizo, white bean and tomato stew, in case you're interested. I knew you would be.)
Pictures, just because it entertains me greatly, and this is my blog:
Monday 13 June 2011
L'amour est dans le pre
Those of you who read my Nice blog may remember my enthusiasm (roundly mocked by pretty much everyone) for L'Amour est dans le pre - a programme about the meeting of minds (or not) between farmers who frankly lack any sort of social skills and the somewhat similarly insane city dwellers who apparently like the idea of going out with them.
Tonight is the first episode of, I think, a new series! It is either that, or a "What are they doing now" special - either is good.
Those of you in France should watch M6 in about 40 minutes. The rest of you will have to live without that pleasure, though I may decide to write more about it once it's over. And, of course, if it's a series, I shall happily keep you updated as True Wuv progresses in rural France.
(The other highlight of my TV week is the recent discovery that TF1 shows House in English. They sound wrong in French - though not as wrong as the French Simpsons, which is truly a crime against humanity.)
If I have timed things right, my dinner should be ready soon - I am having leek, carrot and sweet potato soup with freshly baked baguette. I am starving. (I know you all wanted to know that.)
ETA: It's a new series! Sweet! (Also, dinner was good.)
Tonight is the first episode of, I think, a new series! It is either that, or a "What are they doing now" special - either is good.
Those of you in France should watch M6 in about 40 minutes. The rest of you will have to live without that pleasure, though I may decide to write more about it once it's over. And, of course, if it's a series, I shall happily keep you updated as True Wuv progresses in rural France.
(The other highlight of my TV week is the recent discovery that TF1 shows House in English. They sound wrong in French - though not as wrong as the French Simpsons, which is truly a crime against humanity.)
If I have timed things right, my dinner should be ready soon - I am having leek, carrot and sweet potato soup with freshly baked baguette. I am starving. (I know you all wanted to know that.)
ETA: It's a new series! Sweet! (Also, dinner was good.)
Saturday 11 June 2011
Photos of Paris
For my own amusement, I've been looking back at photos I've taken in the past of Paris. Some are in black and white, some are in colour, but these are some of the photos I liked best:
Monday 6 June 2011
I can move again!
Osteopaths are genius. This one cracked my spine, scared me by nearly breaking my neck, and fixed all the pain and weirdness when I walk.
If I wake up paralysed tomorrow, I reserve the right to take all this back and sue her for everything she's got (which, judging by the price she charged me, will be significant!) - but for this afternoon, it's bliss. My neck turns and everything! And I have no more pins and needles in my arm and hand! Amazing!
If I wake up paralysed tomorrow, I reserve the right to take all this back and sue her for everything she's got (which, judging by the price she charged me, will be significant!) - but for this afternoon, it's bliss. My neck turns and everything! And I have no more pins and needles in my arm and hand! Amazing!
Sunday 5 June 2011
Catch up on my day (boring, but it's my blog, so hush...)
Today was a ridiculously lazy day today, it was bliss. I sat in the park reading in the sunshine all afternoon! (Bill Bryson's Neither Here Nor There, in case you were wondering...)
I had meant to do more energetic and cultural things - today is the first Sunday of the month, on which lots of Paris museums which normally charge an entrance fee let everyone in for free. (Like the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsay, amongst others.) But I've done my back in and it hurts when I move (or sit down, or lie down or stand still, but mostly when I walk), so sitting in the park was about all I'm up to at the moment - I'm hoping to find an osteopath tomorrow who will work a miracle.
And I can smell dinner now - it's been cooking for ages (beef tomato and potato stew) and I'm starving, so I am unilaterally deciding it must be ready. Have a good week!
(I have photos of baby ducks that I might upload if I can get my phone to function properly. I've been putting off dealing with the horror that is French mobile phone buying so far, but it's getting silly now. Must be brave and go to the phone shop...)
I had meant to do more energetic and cultural things - today is the first Sunday of the month, on which lots of Paris museums which normally charge an entrance fee let everyone in for free. (Like the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsay, amongst others.) But I've done my back in and it hurts when I move (or sit down, or lie down or stand still, but mostly when I walk), so sitting in the park was about all I'm up to at the moment - I'm hoping to find an osteopath tomorrow who will work a miracle.
And I can smell dinner now - it's been cooking for ages (beef tomato and potato stew) and I'm starving, so I am unilaterally deciding it must be ready. Have a good week!
(I have photos of baby ducks that I might upload if I can get my phone to function properly. I've been putting off dealing with the horror that is French mobile phone buying so far, but it's getting silly now. Must be brave and go to the phone shop...)
Saturday 4 June 2011
Versailles
My sister-in-law has been visiting this week, which provided the perfect excuse to go to Versailles on Thursday (a public holiday here in France, to celebrate the Ascension of Jesus - link goes to Wikipedia, in case you, too, were wondering what on earth the Ascension of Jesus was...).
We went out to Versailles, fully intending to look round the Palace. As did about eleventy-three billion other people. Unlike them, we didn't waste our day standing in a queue in the blazing sunshine, but decided to go straight to the gardens and have a look round. On weekends and public holidays in the summer (at least, this year), you have to pay to see the gardens, because they play music and the fountains dance to the music, so says the slightly misleading blurb. Charge was €8 per adult, with reductions for children, students, unemployed people, etc. (It appears they forgot to tell the tour companies they'd changed the policy this year, though - some very unhappy tour guides at the gates trying to buy tickets!)
There is one fountain that runs all day, which does indeed dance to the music and it's delightful. The other fountains are turned off for parts of the day, to save water. For the benefit of the reader who might be intending to visit, the big fountains run from 11:00 to 12:00 in the morning, with some of the smaller fountains running from 11:15 to 11:454, and then in the afternoon they all run from 15:30 to 18:00 in the afternoon, with the exception of the giant fountain to the right of the park, which only runs from 17:20-17:30.
This is important to know, so that you don't turn up at 12:00, needing to leave by 16:00. (Guess who did that?) On the other hand, if you were to have time constraints like us, it's not wasted money - the gardens are beautiful, and the fountains are gorgeous as works of art, even without the water running. We spent the whole day wandering around in the sunshine, looking at the various styles of garden (and judging them and their creators harshly, of course - some of them frankly were just not up to scratch ;-) ) and the amount of work that had gone into designing them, and clearly still went into maintaining them. Plus there was icecream.
Practical details before the photos, for those who find this page by googling "How do I get to Versaille from Paris" and the like:
Versailles is about 45 minutes outside of Paris, and you get there by getting an RER C train out to Versailles Rive Gauche. It is probably worth getting a return ticket (aller-retour), to avoid hvaing to queue at the other end to use one of the two un-broken ticket machines. (We didn't. We should have.) It costs €3.05 each way, per person. We got on the RER C at Invalides, but you can also get it from Champs de Mars, where the Eiffel Tower is, or Notre Dame, where the cathedral is. It is basically the most tourist-focused train line I've ever seen, but in a good way. (Apart from the accordion players who target it mercilessly. Please, please don't give them money. It only encourages them, and they shouldn't be there - the RATP do run auditions and give busking licences to proper musicians, to play in the metro and RER system - the guys on trains don't have them. They're just begging, and while you only have to see them once in your trip and so may think they're quaint and cute, those of us who live here have to put up with them all. the. time. Not so cute. And they vary wildly in talent. *shudder* Oh, do they vary.)
Once you get to Versailles-Rive Gauche (Versailles-Rive Droite is where the actual town of Versailles is, from memory - it's been a while since I was there, but it seemed a pleasant enough place to go, with slightly less tourists), you will have no trouble working out where to go, because there will be a million other people going in the same direction. In case, by some miracle, there aren't, come out of the station, cross the road, and turn right up the street. At the end of that block, look left. You should see a giant golden palace with some huge rusted steel curved pillars in front of it, hard to miss.
There are various people along the way advertising tickets for sale - these are ticket agencies, and it is up to you as to whether you join a queue there to buy a ticket from them, or join a queue at the Palace and buy a ticket there. The agencies cost more, but will presumably offer you some added benefits like a guided tour and the like. You will, in either event, have to queue to get in the Palace anyway (which is where we decided to abandon the going-inside part of the plan, having seen the size of the queue) - one slightly frazzled looking English-speaking woman standing in a very, very long queue said hopefully "it's moving quite quickly!" - I can only think she hadn't seen how far she had left to go... I hope she liked it once she got in!
Having decided that we weren't keen on spending the next couple of hours in a queue in the midday sun, we went straight to the gardens. Your normal Chateau de Versailles ticket will not get you into the gardens on weekends or public holidays - you will have to buy a separate ticket, or make sure you specify when you buy your palace tickets that you want one for the gardens too. It will cost an additional €8. Keep your ticket, because if you wander out of the palace grounds (say, down to the big lake at the bottom of the gardens, for a picnic lunch - I recommend this) you will need it to get back in.
And that's enough babbling from me, I think - pretty pictures follow, some with water, some without.
(I like ducks. That's why there are lots of pictures of them on this blog. Their lives are either very, very boring, or they're very stupid, so things are endlessly fascinating to them. Given that soggy bread seems to be a delicacy, I'm leaning towards the latter.)
We went out to Versailles, fully intending to look round the Palace. As did about eleventy-three billion other people. Unlike them, we didn't waste our day standing in a queue in the blazing sunshine, but decided to go straight to the gardens and have a look round. On weekends and public holidays in the summer (at least, this year), you have to pay to see the gardens, because they play music and the fountains dance to the music, so says the slightly misleading blurb. Charge was €8 per adult, with reductions for children, students, unemployed people, etc. (It appears they forgot to tell the tour companies they'd changed the policy this year, though - some very unhappy tour guides at the gates trying to buy tickets!)
There is one fountain that runs all day, which does indeed dance to the music and it's delightful. The other fountains are turned off for parts of the day, to save water. For the benefit of the reader who might be intending to visit, the big fountains run from 11:00 to 12:00 in the morning, with some of the smaller fountains running from 11:15 to 11:454, and then in the afternoon they all run from 15:30 to 18:00 in the afternoon, with the exception of the giant fountain to the right of the park, which only runs from 17:20-17:30.
This is important to know, so that you don't turn up at 12:00, needing to leave by 16:00. (Guess who did that?) On the other hand, if you were to have time constraints like us, it's not wasted money - the gardens are beautiful, and the fountains are gorgeous as works of art, even without the water running. We spent the whole day wandering around in the sunshine, looking at the various styles of garden (and judging them and their creators harshly, of course - some of them frankly were just not up to scratch ;-) ) and the amount of work that had gone into designing them, and clearly still went into maintaining them. Plus there was icecream.
Practical details before the photos, for those who find this page by googling "How do I get to Versaille from Paris" and the like:
Versailles is about 45 minutes outside of Paris, and you get there by getting an RER C train out to Versailles Rive Gauche. It is probably worth getting a return ticket (aller-retour), to avoid hvaing to queue at the other end to use one of the two un-broken ticket machines. (We didn't. We should have.) It costs €3.05 each way, per person. We got on the RER C at Invalides, but you can also get it from Champs de Mars, where the Eiffel Tower is, or Notre Dame, where the cathedral is. It is basically the most tourist-focused train line I've ever seen, but in a good way. (Apart from the accordion players who target it mercilessly. Please, please don't give them money. It only encourages them, and they shouldn't be there - the RATP do run auditions and give busking licences to proper musicians, to play in the metro and RER system - the guys on trains don't have them. They're just begging, and while you only have to see them once in your trip and so may think they're quaint and cute, those of us who live here have to put up with them all. the. time. Not so cute. And they vary wildly in talent. *shudder* Oh, do they vary.)
Once you get to Versailles-Rive Gauche (Versailles-Rive Droite is where the actual town of Versailles is, from memory - it's been a while since I was there, but it seemed a pleasant enough place to go, with slightly less tourists), you will have no trouble working out where to go, because there will be a million other people going in the same direction. In case, by some miracle, there aren't, come out of the station, cross the road, and turn right up the street. At the end of that block, look left. You should see a giant golden palace with some huge rusted steel curved pillars in front of it, hard to miss.
There are various people along the way advertising tickets for sale - these are ticket agencies, and it is up to you as to whether you join a queue there to buy a ticket from them, or join a queue at the Palace and buy a ticket there. The agencies cost more, but will presumably offer you some added benefits like a guided tour and the like. You will, in either event, have to queue to get in the Palace anyway (which is where we decided to abandon the going-inside part of the plan, having seen the size of the queue) - one slightly frazzled looking English-speaking woman standing in a very, very long queue said hopefully "it's moving quite quickly!" - I can only think she hadn't seen how far she had left to go... I hope she liked it once she got in!
Having decided that we weren't keen on spending the next couple of hours in a queue in the midday sun, we went straight to the gardens. Your normal Chateau de Versailles ticket will not get you into the gardens on weekends or public holidays - you will have to buy a separate ticket, or make sure you specify when you buy your palace tickets that you want one for the gardens too. It will cost an additional €8. Keep your ticket, because if you wander out of the palace grounds (say, down to the big lake at the bottom of the gardens, for a picnic lunch - I recommend this) you will need it to get back in.
And that's enough babbling from me, I think - pretty pictures follow, some with water, some without.
(I like ducks. That's why there are lots of pictures of them on this blog. Their lives are either very, very boring, or they're very stupid, so things are endlessly fascinating to them. Given that soggy bread seems to be a delicacy, I'm leaning towards the latter.)
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