The Purrito and I are heading off to the Alliance française to begin phase 2 of our formal French education. While we’re still irritated at the system glitches that prevented us from being in the same course, I think that we’re both hoping that attending the evening classes at the same building, at the same …
These are from Friday evening’s wandering that featured a cramique, my camera, and a part of the 7e that we’ve never really walked through.
“That is the most disgusting museum in Paris,” the Purrito said flatly. Mounting the final few steps that released us from the admittedly smelly subterranean sanctum of Paris’ wastewater, I found that I was having a hard time disagreeing. That said, I had a just-acquired 3€ rat-shaped magnet with the words visite des égouts de paris in my …
The post about our weekend in Avignon is turning out to be a monster; as I type this, the gallery is slowly uploading. As we returned home fairly early in the afternoon, we made the decision to try our most impressive easter-related acquisition: the chocolate lobster. Dark chocolate lobsters: yet another reason I don’t ever …
The American shop up the street (they import junk food and sell it to students attending the American University of Paris and French folk looking for gag gifts for their colleagues [all I’m going to say is that it involved a box of macaroni and cheese, and that I wish I understood more French, because …
Sunday, as probably everybody knows, was Easter; while under most circumstances, this is at least a positive event (Easter is arguably the premiere candy holiday, and the chocolatiers here put effectively every candy I’ve had prior to living here to shame), it was made even better this year (full disclosure: last year, too) as the …
Saturday saw our plans go sideways for the third week in a row, though we did manage to get something checked off of the to-do list: The Musée Marmottan Monet. The museum itself started life as an outpost on the edge of the world; originally constructed as a hunting lodge. it is now in the …
It was one year ago today that I groggily disembarked from a plane, hopped in a taxi that, in retrospect, overcharged me, and found myself in an aparthotel at the back end of La Défense. As the Purrito will rightly state, our official expatriation anniversary is not until June, but it was at this time …
Some 40 hours of one-on-one instruction (broken into 1.5 hour chunks) later, I find myself at the end of my company-allotted French lessons. I am now feeling strangely adrift, and it took more effort than I expected to stop myself from simply sulking through the day. She was nominally “just” a French tutor (whom the …
Dumb idea of the week: retaining the anger at the taxi driver that drove me there earlier (after he bellyached at being asked if he was available and then sighed when I told him the destination, despite the fact that he was the lead vehicle in the cab stand line) and instead of just taking …
Fezzik In Paris 