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Posts Tagged ‘paris’

Finding an apartment to rent in Paris is tricky. The best ones go on and off the market by word of mouth, never getting advertised.

You can tip the odds in your favour, however. Nearly all the phone numbers have been taken by those with rooms to rent for this lucky renter…

Young woman seeks a room to rent

“Young woman seeks a room to rent”

Even in this day and age, sex sells.


It was our first proper dinner party since moving to Paris. The party was a pretty good success, with Anne Laure and Neil imported from the UK for the evening. Despite having been in Paris for nearly five months, it was the first chance I’d gotten to catch up with Alain and Faouzia.

It was only a matter of time before Neil pointed out that I hadn’t pulled out the camera all night. Like red to a bull, I grabbed the camera (and embarrassingly large flash) to shoot a few shots of the evening.

Faouzia hides her face

Faouzia doesn’t seem too happy about having her picture taken…

Faouzia

I can’t see what all the fuss is about, actually…

The gang on the couch

The gang on the couch after dinner. Anne Laure is helping Neil with his impression of actually having some hair.

The gang on the couch

A quick swap of photographers so Matt can get into the picture

 

It has taken time, but after months of trying I am finally finding my way around the office. My progress has been helped along by a French colleague who is now working in the London office. He is working on my project, and in addition to his project duties, he has become my unofficial guide to the French firm. Thanks to him I am learning the peculiarities of the expenses system, which restaurant has the best lunch on a given day, and most importantly, where the stationery cupboard is!

Stationery cupboard

After four months, I have finally managed to find the stationery cupboard

In the UK, we used to have large stationery cupboards on each floor, and you could basically go in and help yourself. Anything else could be ordered by your secretary.

There’s none of this self-service business in France. Instead, you have to turn up at a window on the 23rd floor where a little man disappears into the back and produces what you’ve asked for. Trouble is, as a non-French speaker, asking for things is a little tricky. Pointing is a lot easier. Still, I managed to do okay.

View of Paris from La Defense

The view of Paris from my office window

Summer is here and I’m enjoying having an office with a nice view – even if it isn’t quite as nice as the view from our London office, it’s still nice being up this high.

Car vs. Velib

The aftermath of Car vs. Velib

We went out today for a walk around the neighbourhood and stumbled upon this scene: car vs. velib. I didn’t quite get the whole story, but the car and velib obviously collided. By the time we arrived, the two cyclists were exchanging blows in the street with the driver. Within just a few seconds, the police (also on bicycles) were there and gave chase.

It was never this exciting in Canterbury!

Visit to Paris

Aude and her mother along the bank of the Seine.

Visit to Paris

Time to play tourist — we visited the city by Bateau Bus

Visit to Paris

Aude’s father gets ready to make a wish as he celebrates his birthday

It’s been a very busy month with visitors. Aude’s parents also came to spend several days with us in May, taking advantage of one of the long holiday weekends. We did all the touristy things, walking all over the city and taking a bateau bus down the Seine.

We also had a great meal at Le Train Bleu.

Pelouse Interdite

Pelouse Interdite

One of the things that I love about France is the selective adherence to the rules. As an Anglo-Saxon, I haven’t quite worked out which rules I need to follow and which I don’t, but this much is clear: not all rules are created equal.

Everyone interprets the tax regulations creatively. Red lights are merely advisory. Pedestrians crossing a crosswalk are regarded more as a challenge than a reason to stop. Entire books have been written about the way the Parisians interpret parking.

In a typically French way, the grass here is marked “Pelouse Interdite” — “Keep off the grass”. And as you can clearly see in the background, no one is taking a blind bit of notice.