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Published: September 9th 2011
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Our House
In the middle of the street... No wait that can't be right. Friends, family, and pets. Good afternoon.
It has been drawn to my attention that some of you are interested in our whereabouts and the highlights and catastrophes that befall us on our trip. Why you want to hear from me when you all have a week's break is miles beyond me, but I shall comply despite my total lack of comprehension. Being the techo-geek that I am, it has occurred to me that the best way to keep everyone updated is through a blog like so. This has been done before and apparently turned out to be successful, so I shall repeat the procedure. Now for the trip...
We started off as is traditional... Wake up at ungodly hour of the morning, finish packing 20 minutes before leaving (just me), locate missing underwear (me too), fail to locate missing socks (again guilty), bundle selves into car like zombies and stare open-mouthedly at the rising sun (all of us, except Papa who I hope was staring at the road as he drove). The checking in was free from chaos and we were getting ready to board when I realised that we would be flying on 9/11. Peter promptly informed me
that we would actually be flying at 8:15 and I had got it all wrong. I gave up and went to buy a muffin.
The flight was extremely uneventful in that I was unconscious for most of it. Apparently it was full of screaming infants who were off to Disneyland. Papa and Peter got off the plane looking decidedly unamused whilst Thomas looked borderline homicidal. Same old. 😊
After baggage collection and airport wandering we were on a train to Paris. My first impression of the suburbs was: "Looks slightly grubby." This quickly evolved to "Good Lord this is the filthiest collection of bricks I have ever had the dire misfortune to stumble upon," and remember that I spend most of my time in my bedroom which is the worst of the worst. There was graffiti everywhere, even on the rooftops. But anyhow.
The little bit of the city we saw on our way to our flat was also pretty grimy, but I am suspending judgement because I haven't been here enough to get a good feel of the city. There's a wonderful little street full of shops (and food and food and food and food...).
Our flat is lovely, owned by a family who are not very French. In fact they are so un-French that they are British, and have a UK flag welcome mat to exhibit this trait. We met the daughter who was baby-sitting downstairs. She seemed awfully sweet and proceeded to give us a tour of the house with a very Chinese-looking baby at her hip. We have yet to meet the mother. They seem nice though, and they have a good sense of humour. Their WiFi connection is called 'Whiffy'. Also there is tea. The owners must have left the house this morning as we keep bumping into things that are theirs - lots of clothes, an excellent collection of books (there is a bookshelf in the bathroom, HP5 included), CDs (Dark Side of the Moon <3), and a pink bra in the girl's bedroom. Oh and the girl is called Lucy. Yes, there are 2 of them. I hope the building can take it.
After the house orientation and settling in, where we sat on our asses for an hour as Papa unpacked, boor bloke (Thanks you Pa we love you), we went to a little Italian restaurant (yes in France, sue us) and had an excellent meal. Then shopping at the supermarket - all the prices were little digital screens :D - and now back home for a breather before we go bring Paris to its knees this evening.
Also I still can't speak French to save my sorry hind.
James out 😊
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