Paris

Hi y'all!

Just thought I'd let you know that I never promised to write about every day. The Dales needed that, but youse are just going to have to put up with ramblings on an ad hoc basis (that's Latin for 'just get over it').

Paris has been sunny and, as usual, quite lovely. We have been scorching around on our Velibs. These are the bikes that are found at stations all around the city and where you pop your code in and ride for 30 minutes for free. Wonderful. After 30 minutes (more like 25) we rack our bikes and walk around for a bit, then hop onto anothery. Steph arrived Friday night for a weekend with us and I have just got a day pass for her today. She has had work in London and has found a lovely house within spitting distance of the Thames in Hammersmith. She is set up and enjoying it very much.

Jude has found some great spots in Paris. Most notably are the gardens I spoke of last time, but also an overhead garden that is the result of conversion of an old railway line. It runs for about 2.5 km and houses the most gorgeous walking/running track lined with trees, shrubs and flowers. People sit in amongst this greenery with faces turned towards the sun, as only people who see so little of it do! A kind of smile spreads across their faces as they turn 'solar-wards' and they hold that attitude for as long as it takes us to walk by - maybe even longer, as they are still holding it if we turn back to look. Quite a find, this 'jardin'!

Here are some observations regarding Parisians:

1. They seem to be very comfortable being where they are - that is, Paris. In other cities it seems that people are dying to be anywhere other than where they are. Parisians seem to love being right here ...

2. They smoke. Not inside any more, but anywhere else. And they smoke as if they are really enjoying it. And they smoke as if there ain't no tomorrow health-wise. We all know differently, but there would be no convincing these smoking Parisians.

3. There aren't any fat ones. Well, if you look closely you will find them, but they - in my estimation - are probably tourists, so my theory holds.

The other day I nearly got booked by a police officer. I was riding my velib the wrong way down a one-way street that was a little busier than it should have been. A police car came other way and signalled to me in simple and eloquent French that I should pull over. In simple and eloquent English I yelled "Sorry" many times and assumed an attitude of contriteness and sorrow AND THEN PEDALLED ON. The young-ish officer would have thought he had me on toast as a booking to boost his haul for the day, but he was facing the wrong way (remember) down the one-way street. I (and the skulking Jude on the other side of the road) took off for our lives not - happily - to the sound of police siren wailing. Whheeew!

Stephanie goes tomorrow (Sunday). We go to pick up our car on Monday and Collingwood is about to tear the hide off Essendon tomorrow. I don't suppose that it will be televised on BBC World or any other station in Paris. Got to feel sorry for the poor old Bombers, don't you.

That's it for now from me, but where are the contributions from YOUSE?

Join up and make some comments, or I'll 'rip your blood arms off' (remember that?).

We are headed off to show Steph the 'jardins' Jude found and that I told you about (see above and previous).

Always Your Best Pals,

Ramblers