August in Paris has been a cursed month for us for the last two years. The first August we lived here, our key broke in our apartment door three hours before our train to Amsterdam was supposed to leave. In the states, this would not have been a problem, but in Europe, August is the …
Our cascading failure state continued into Tuesday. Yet again we erred by failing to confirm that the museums in which we were interested were indeed open; arriving at Cité de l’architecture et du patrimoine we were (gently, and in slow, clear, French) lectured about national museums being closed on Tuesdays while city museums are closed …
Monday’s failure began on Friday evening. While we had originally planned an expedition to the Musée des arts forains, I found, while double-checking the website, that while the museum normally had a reservation-free, just-show-up period between Christmas and the new year (throughout most of the year, it’s Monday or Tuesday only, reservations required, subject to …
He’s in town for COP21.
Saturday’s excursion to Versailles felt like a bit of a revival for us; while my mood was certainly buoyed due my consumption of one of the two boxes of (eight small) macarrons that I would consume between Friday and Sunday, the exhibit that we went out to see, Le roi est mort, felt like the …
Eleven people, three cats, and 49 square meters of apartment space: we’ll see how this goes.
It would be reasonable to argue that Saturday’s expedition was perhaps not our finest weekend, but while it fell short of the good idea mark, it did not fall so short as to earn the classification of “dumb idea of the week.” Our primary foe was the weather; the past few days have brought with …
While reading a post on the Expatriates in Paris Facebook group a couple of months ago, I engaged in a fit of poor judgement; seeing a banner ad proclaiming that Oktoberfest was, finally, coming to Paris, I clicked, noticed that tickets seemed to be rapidly selling out, said “what the hell,” and paid for two …
Note to self: the Purrito’s (who is back in the states for a few days) use of the term lemon butter sauce does not and should not imply that adding lemon juice and butter to cooked pasta will result in the production of a dish with a similar flavor. Further, the answer to what was …
These are from our brief excursion to the Champs-Élysées for last Sunday’s Paris sans voiture (yes, I am behind on the blogging). There were far more people than either of us had thought, but I was still amused at imagining the meltdowns that would occur if something of this nature was done in Houston. Because …
Fezzik In Paris 