I’ve been in Paris!!!!
(With the desirable colleague, hurray)
We were there on work which meant stress and worry a lot of the time, but we did end up having a free day to romp about the streets of Paris (with the desirable colleague, hurray). Here are fabulous, lovely, gorgeous photos of a city that far outdoes any in the world.
Les Deux Maggots, a pretty little cafe on the left bank where the likes of Satre hung out back in the day!
La Tour Eiffel! Comme c'est belle!
Pretty Parisien streets along the left bank. (bad dreary weather though)
Le Louvre! (And no, it isn't just famous because of a certain book)
It was a total hoot running around with four other Chinese people, eating until food came out of our ears. I dug up what French I remembered from A levels – enough apparently to impress the diners at the next table so that they kept staring at me, a strange looking Chinese girl ordering lunch for four. Hurray, all those French lessons avec Mme Mazeyrac in school were well worth it.
Funny though, how so much of the city runs like you’re in Malaysia. Time is very elastic there (as it is here), and road signs are a nightmare. You know how it is when you’re following a sign here, and then when you get to a crucial fork in the road, the bloody sign disappears? Just the same in Paris. The only advantage they have is that the streets are so very pretty you don’t mind getting lost.
Even Carrefour is exciting there. Our crappy version here isn’t a patch on the wonder that is Carrefour in France (well it better be good, considering it’s from there). You don’t think a supermarket could be that exciting until you go to Carrefour in France. Their chocolate aisle is like you’d died, gone to heaven, and booked yourself the most fabulous place next to the most fabulous angels with the most fabulous access to God (and I’m not even Christian). I think I must have spent about half an hour just staring at the chocolates. It was the biggest quandary I’ve ever been in – WHICH BARS OF CHOCOLATE TO BUY? I ended up with about 20 bars so half my luggage weight was from bars of cocoa and milk.
And because Paris is the way it is, even the desirable colleague loosened up and stopped talking about work for about two seconds. How very exciting for a dizzy romantic like me.
Then, as if through some weird psychic connection with Trisha’s last post, he started up some conversation about how he likes girls that are soft spoken and gentle. Independent, but not too independent so that, “they know when to be obedient.” I was like WHAT? And then, eeeeeeeewwwwwww! Obviously a far cry from loud-mouthed, gobby girls like me who never really know when to behave. Really, now, do men actually still use words like “obedient” to describe their partner of choice? Geez Louise. No matter how far exposed they are, how educated they are, how forward thinking they think they are, it seems men really do still prefer their girls to resemble pretty mantelpieces (i.e. to look at and which don’t say much). Bah.
I gave the colleague a great deal of shit for that the rest of the evening which probably just reiterated the point that I’m not ever going to be soft, gentle and ladylike. But I like it that way!
In any case, I was in France, and things were happy. Simple pleasures can, for a moment quell even the angst of my agitated feminist ragings!