Note to self – learn the Italian word for Paris BEFORE going to the airport. There were no lasting problems, although it would have saved a lot of queuing if I’d noticed when the guy called “Pareeeeeegeeeeeeee! Pareeeeeegeeeee!” I was all, “NOT ME PAL, I’m going to Paris!”
So the apartment is amazing, and it has a balcony overlooking the street, and it even has a stack of Vogue in the corner. I stole a book I found in the last apartment so now I’m going to warm up by the heater and read books. But first, a trip to the supermarche.
Do you think we all just travel in order to see supermarkets in other countries? Everyone I know thinks it’s fun. It also brings a crap location back from the doldrums. “oh man, this place is so crap and boring. I know! Let’s check out the supermarket!” Not that I have such a problem here in the Marais.