La vie is belle too...

After my first foray into the joys of mobile blogging this afternoon I was inspired and decided to try and take some photos of the joys of Paris on a sunny Sunday afternoon to share with you all...


There was of course, the string section playing Bizet...

This was then followed by the joys of the fountains, foie gras and champagne, not to mention the all important third F, friends, and my F herself... For the first time on this blog, you will see pictures, of me, and DF, not to mention P and C...

We also had a lovely time, listening to buskers of varying types: opera, classical, just strange, or maybe drunk... The strangest though had to be the man tap-dancing, in the street, for money, as it was getting dark... Unfortunately I
was unable to take a video of this most fabulous of events as I was in a hurry to get to work on time, but he was really very good and it made a change from all those boring violins... Just kidding they were great too...

So, as promised, some more photos, if you hadn't guessed that is DF on le pont des arts, the pedestrian footbridge across the Seine where we consumed out little picnic... For more information on this lovely sunny Sunday afternoon feel free to read DF's blog...

Here is P enjoying the champagne... And C enjoying a
cigarette... Yes there are still smokers in Paris, despite the pesky smoking ban...
















And dahlings, despite all my promises, you are going to have to wait for the photo of me, and trust that, that was me...

La vie est belle...

Sometimes life seems unbearably difficult, we complain, we moan, about everything and about nothing. Then, there are other times, this being one of them, when one looks around and all is right with the world...

I am sitting in the October sunshine, sipping a coffee on a Sunday afternoon, listening to a full string orchestra playing George Bizet's Carmen in the middle of the most beautiful city in the world. On top of which I am waiting for my fabulous friend P who is over for a couple of days from Kinshasa in the Congo, and my Dahling Fiancée.

In short, life is good...

Until next time dahlings, that was me, from my cell, on the streets of Paris...

Some old writing from me... In other words, I am feeling lazy...

This is an autobiography, limited to 600 words, written about three years ago for a writing competition that I obviously didn't win...

It is a little out of date, but hey, I have been busy with work and so I thought that it would be better to post this than nothing, and you will learn some things about me you wouldn't otherwise know... And PS, the girl is you A, not you C, and now I am very happily engaged to be married to my dahling F...



Sitting in a bare classroom with ten 10-year-old boys looking to shoot me down. This is where the test really started: Sunday school.

Whoever said that public speaking is hard certainly wasn't lying, add in a dash of sour souvenirs from an all-male education, a twist of poor preparation and shake it all together over a foreign language and you begin to understand what I was feeling when confronted with these ten small boys waiting for their new Sunday school teacher to make a mistake. I was 18, I was working in a small Baptist church in the suburbs south of Paris in a place called Massy as a church worker. Why? Well, it was a way to open my adult life, and the best option open to me, so I found myself teaching boys the story of Jonah, feeling a certain empathy for the guy that gets swallowed by a whale only to be spat out a few days later.

Then there was university... I went to Leeds, I studied, I left, and found myself once again in Paris, this time via Granada, Spain.

In Paris I endeavoured to pursue my dream of one day owning a restaurant and proceeded to work in a well-heeled wine bar and bistro where I developed my already highly tuned tastes for the finer things in this world. Perhaps a product of my suburban public school education, which I dismissed at the time as snobbish, elitist and completely alien to me, probably more out of contempt for my classmates than out of a true belief in the ideals these principles represented.

So it was I not only came to learn the difference between good and bad champagne, but also develop a taste for the good stuff, sipping it in pleasant bars in the company of bourgeois cosmopolitan model types. So I worked hard and I partied hard for two years until the realisation that I was not going to own my restaurant simply by working as a waiter, no matter how good I was. It is the eternal myth of waiters, the thing that keeps many professionals in the restaurant business, putting up with poor pay, and even worse hours: the myth that one day they will be boss, one day all this will be theirs. It won't.

I left the wine bar, I moved on, I decided that I would try something new: I wrote. Another cliche in Paris. To add to the cliches I then fell in love. Not a simple affair of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy gets girl (if anyone has ever heard of a simple affair of this type I would love to hear it), but the slightly more complex, boy meets girl, boy becomes best friend with girl, boy falls for girl, girl is not interested in that way.

So after some painful times, some therapy, a lot of fun and a lot of growing up, I decided that a new life-plan was required, one that involved being responsible, and a little bit adult, so I came to the conclusion that it was time to go back to London for an extended visit.

The tears welled as the realisation hit. I was leaving and there was nothing I could do about it. I was leaving, and when I came back things were not going to be the same. It didn't matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, things could not and would not be the same. To start with I was going to have to get a job!



Until next time dahlings, (when I promise to give you something original) that was me...

Work work work...

I seem to have had my two days off and not known where they went... The first one was eaten up with sleeping, errands and then going out for dinner with my beloved fiancée... We had the first fondue of the season at our favourite little place in the fifth arrondisement. Check it out it is very cute, highly romantic for all you couple out there, not expensive for all those people who like a bargain, and above all very tasty... The only problem with it, is, that they do not do dessert... But otherwise a great little restaurant, and when I say little it really is very small, so reserve... It is called Heureux comme Alexandre. The link is not to their own site, as they don't seem to have one.

Though we should be budgeting we seem to have gone out for food quite a few times regularly, just last night we were at another of our favourites: Juveniles a winebar and restaurant with a fabulous atmosphere, though we would say that, we have contacts, but I think that the atmosphere is great even if you are not regular... It is just one of those really comfortable restaurants...

Long and short of it we have been having a lovely time going out with friends and having drinks... the usual, but unfortunately not resting, which, with the new job I should have been...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

PS the title is ironic for those of you who are a bit slow...

We can all breathe easy...

So, congress got the job done and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. My new job is at place de la bourse in, or Stock Exchange square in English, and everyone this evening was must more relaxed, even if it is just a restaurant, we are paid on percentage, and the spending habits of the traders directly affects us!

It is an interesting experience to work in such a typically Parisian restaurant, with the bow-tie, waistcoat, apron, the crazy running around, with everyone knowing exactly what their job is. Tonight I served, in my area, 30 people dinner, which was not even that much... I am new and still getting the hang of the system. The really amazing thing about these restaurants is the sheer number of people who eat there, be it regularly, be it just once in their lives. To think that it has been open since 1876, probably pretty much everyday except Christmas, and that on average, at least now, it serves 200 people a day... well you do the maths, but that is a lot of meals served. Over 130 years, at least 360 days a year, and probably at least 100 people a day, once averaged out. That is a lot of steak frites!

So, as I was saying we are all very happy that Congress finally got round to voting through the bailout plan and that hopefully everything will calm down a little next week. Though, looking at this last week, I doubt it!

Until next time dahlings, that was me...