If you were paying attention, you may have noticed that I didn’t do a blog entry yesterday. Was that a big sigh of relief I hear? One of my WW friends wrote me that she was having a hard time “keeping up.” Well, I never!
Yesterday was pretty uneventful -- we’re just getting to know this little burg, which isn’t so little after all. After spending the morning walking around -- and a leisurely breakfast down by the pool, where we read all eight pages of the International Herald Tribune -- we spent the rest of the morning wandering around, window shopping and trying to get lost in the myriad back alleys of Old Town. We also met with an apartment owner who would like to rent us her place for three months and it was fun to see. She had several selling points: it is right in the middle of Old Town which is right where we want to be and it is furnished with everything from an omelette pan to a spaghetti pot. It also has a decent coffee maker and lovely big French windows. The building doesn’t have an elevator, but that’s OK since we’re used to living between our four floors at home. Oh, did I mention it also has the biggest bathroom in France? That designation didn’t take much -- anything bigger than a hall closet is considered gigantic -- but this one actually has a shower curtain. Yes! The only one in France! Quick, call Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.
The flat also has a washing machine, but no dryer, which is apparently quite common. People simply hang their wet laundry all over the apartment until it dries. (Which, in this climate, wouldn’t take long.) I guess we could always send our laundry out -- if we won the lottery, that is! We sent out a small load the day we arrived and it was over $60!
After a nice lunch (Croque Monsieur for me; Salad Nicoise for Brad) we walked up the Cours Mirabeau and decided to go to a matinee showing of “Whatever it Takes” -- the new Woody Allen movie filmed in, where else, New York. It was showing in English -- with French subtitles, which I tried to read for about half the movie until I remembered I don’t read French anymore than I speak it, so I simply listened in English the way I normally would. Something I noticed in movie theatres in Paris, and again yesterday here is that they are (1) immaculately clean -- I can’t imagine seeing a kernel of popcorn on the floor, ever; and, (2) they are completely silent. There is no “preview show,” no music while you wait. Nada. It’s quite (pun intended) nice to sit there in silence as you wait for the movie to begin. Very civilized. It also has the effect of quieting people down. There is no announcement about “silencing your cellphones,” either. Apparently the French are courteous enough to figure that out on their own. It really makes going to the movies a pleasant experience.
Last night we went out for pizza, outdoors (we haven't eaten indoors since leaving Colorado) -- and it was fun to watch people. They (finally) enacted a no-smoking policy for all indoor spaces in France a few years ago -- but, alas, this doesn’t apply to outdoor eating areas, so it isn’t at all uncommon to have people smoking at tables all around you. We lucked out last night though -- not one person smoking at any of the table in our “row” (the tables are all about three inches apart) -- except, of course, for the two American girls at the very end. We hardly noticed, though, so perhaps we’re getting used to it. One thing is certain: the French people obviously haven’t gotten the memo that “they’ve done some research and found that smoking might be dangerous to your health...”
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