Well, winter has come to Paris. The changing of the clocks has coincided with a change in the weather. Rain, wind and lower temperatures all arrived this morning.

It’s been a lovely autumn with pleasant temperatures and the changing colours of the trees that line so many of the avenues making the city even more attractive than usual. The view looking up the Avenue Champs-Elysees towards the Arc De Triumph is quite spectacular at the moment. The leaves on the Horse Chestnut trees that line the lower part of the Avenue are a wonderful mix of brown, red and gold. Seeing this on a crisp sunny morning is just wonderful.

Incidentally, French children don’t seem to play conkers (I read somewhere that English kids don’t anymore either) and so I have been returning from these strolls up and down the Champs-Elysees with my pockets bulging full of large, shiny conkers that would otherwise be left to rot. Darling Wife (who in case you don’t know is from Taiwan) is completely bemused by this. I’m not sure what to do with them, but I have just been unable to resist picking up the larger specimens – marvellous!

Anyway, getting back to winter. There was quite a gale blowing today and the rain was for a time being blown horizontally. Everyone has now pretty much adopted winter clothing. As in the UK, this seems to pretty much consist of black or grey overcoats. So depressing – what’s wrong with a red or a blue coat?

The wind and rain forced me inside for my coffee today. This means braving the smoky haze that permanently inhabits these places. I was the only person not smoking, and although I have no particular gripe with those who wish to smoke, I do object to sitting in a smog filled room in order to enjoy my coffee. In the end I took up a position by the door, which was fairly regularly ventilated by the comings and goings of the patrons.

Sitting there gasping for air, I couldn’t help but think of the reaction of the French if someone ever tries to ban smoking in public places over here. I suspect it would be firm resounding NON! There were widespread protests a few years ago when the government tried to increase the tax on tobacco. I suspect there will be another revolution if they try and introduce any sort of a ban on smoking.

Today was what the French call ‘A Bridge’ (presumably ‘Le Pont’ in French?). This is the term to describe a Monday or a Friday that comes between the weekend and a bank holiday on a Tuesday or Thursday. Tomorrow is a national holiday in France and although today (Monday) was a normal workday, a large number of the populace took the day off in order to get a 4-day weekend. Traffic this morning was light, and many of the people in my customer’s office were absent. This meant that that the workload was acceptably light.

We’ve got another holiday next Friday. It seems strange to have these holidays when the weather has turned and the hours of daylight are decreasing. Whatever, who am I to argue with a holiday?

As you may already have worked out, I haven’t really got anything to say tonight. I’m just writing for the sake of it. So having run out of inspiration, I’ll sign off.

Just been watching MTV2 and there was a segment that mentioned that 10% of all students drink alcohol excessively.

Yeah, right.

I'd really love to know what they classify as an excessive amount of alcohol.

Somehow I suspect it might be more like 10% of students who don't drink excessively!

I was in the Virgin Mega Store on the Champs-Elysees this morning in an ultimately futile attempt to buy the new Nine Black Alps and The Artic Monkeys albums (seems that their rising stars haven’t made it to France yet). However, while searching around, I noticed that the store was playing the new Robbie Williams album ‘Intensive Care’. It sounded so good that I ended up buying it! I’m not normally a fan of Robbie (and if you have heard the Nine Black Alps or the Artic Monkeys you’ll understand why) but I have to recommend it.

Nothing particulary brilliant or original but good pop music which (perhaps most importantly) Darling Wife will enjoy when we are driving - somehow I just know that The Artic Monkeys won't win her vote of approval.

One of the things I started this blog for was to allow me let off steam by ranting and raving about the atrocious driving of the French. However I feel that a series of boring ‘get me out of here because the traffic’s bad’ posts would soon seem pretty dull. So I am pleased to note that I managed 13 posts before succumbing to the urge to have my first moan. Even then, this is not really a moan, more a vote of sympathy for the poor people stuck in the horrendous traffic jams that form around Paris every morning and evening.

I live in the centre of Paris and for most of the time I am commuting to the outskirts of the city in the mornings and coming back into Paris in the evenings. Doing this seems to allow me to avoid much of the horrendous traffic the builds up in and around the city at rush hour. I still get caught in traffic, but it’s not that bad really.

A couple of Friday’s ago, I had to drive out to Charles de Gaulle Airport at 5 O’clock on a Friday evening. What a nightmare. It took 2 hours. Normally this trip takes around 45 to 60 minutes. Apart from the last 5 miles or so, I don’t think I got the car out of second gear.

While I was sat in this traffic jam, it occurred to me that the vast majority of people I was stuck in the jam with probably do this journey twice a day. Assuming they get caught in the morning jams as well, that means they could spend up to 4 hours a day sat in their cars wasting their lives.

I sometimes start early and I know the traffic is building up at 7 O’clock and doesn’t really die down until about 10, so they must get caught in the mornings too.

I just couldn’t do that. Even if there were a job that paid me enough to do that, I would soon have saved enough to allow me to retire and stop doing it!

If I had to drive 60 or 70 miles in 2 hours, that wouldn’t be so bad. Put some Green Day or maybe something classic like Golden Earring in the CD Player and away we go. But to crawl along at 5 to 10 miles an hour for over 2 hours EVERY day would really kill me.

By a strange coincidence, I was working late at Orly last Thursday and left there at 8 O’clock in the evening. Even then, the traffic was still bad and I queued for 20 minutes to get onto the Peripherique.

Maybe this is why the French are such terrible drivers. Perhaps just sitting for hour after interminable hour in traffic means that when they are presented with an open road, they are unable to resist the urge to drive like total lunatics (which believe me, they do).

Anyway, suffice to say I am more than happy with my lot. And although easy commuting was the last thing on my mind when I chose to live in the centre of the city; it is one of the pleasurable consequences!

:D

In between writing 3 posts tonight (a record for me) I have been surfing a number of other blogs.

I can't believe that on 3 of them Christmas is mentioned.

One of them (The Argos Employee - see the link on the right hand side of the page) mentions that the 'Argos Christmas Flyer' is out!

Hello? The clocks haven't even gone back yet.

Fortunately, in Paris Christmas is sprung on us sometime in the 3rd week of December. Until then, you'd be forgiven for thinking that you were in country where Christmas was unheard of.

Long may that tradition continue.

A café / bistro adjacent to Pont Alma.

€5.20 for ‘un crème’. First thoughts that this was very pricey. Turned out to be OK. The coffee was served in a silver pot and the milk was served hot in a glass jug. Rather quaint and enough for 2 cups – so not too bad at all.

Incidentally, the café is within sight of the unofficial memorial to Princess Diana (officially it’s a memorial to the French Resistance). Diana died in the tunnel that runs underneath the river bank at this spot. So despite arriving in a happy frame of mind, it was impossible to not to reflect on the sad events that took place just a hundred yards or so away.

No, I am not going to pay homage to the rather obscure 1979 song by The Stranglers (although I must say the song and indeed the album it is from is rather better than a recent retrospective review in Q Magazine suggested).

No, dear reader, I am instead going to tell you all about the sewers of Paris…

The sewer network of Paris has it’s own museum which is situated on the left bank of the Seine near the Hotel des Invalides.

The museum takes you alongside one of the sewers and, yes, if you look for long enough, you can see some pretty unmentionable things floating by. Then there is a section dealing with how the sewers are cleaned and some other sections dealing with the history of the sewers and their future.

The part I found most interesting was a section on the history of Paris. I have always been interested in history. Alas, all I learnt about the French and France while at school was that we (the English) have been fighting them pretty much since time began. I feel I must add that with a few exceptions we have been winning too! Of course the one exception that springs to mind is 1066, so moving swiftly on…

Getting back to the museum, this small section on the history of Paris deals with the small settlement on what is now the Ile de la Citie by the Parisii tribe. I have to admit to finding this extremely fascinating and ended up greedily reading just about every word on the display boards.

I suspect that a trip to this museum is not high on most people’s list of must see attractions, but on a hot sunny day if you are looking for somewhere to spend an hour or so in the cool shade, then the museum is an interesting alternative to sitting in a café.

I was walking past the museum last weekend and noticed that there was a fairly large queue of people patiently waiting to gain entry. So obviously it is reasonably popular.

Finally I must also share one useless fact with you. If the sewers of Paris were laid end to end, they would stretch from Paris to Istanbul

Now, I bet you didn’t know that!

Now then, never let it be said that I don’t like Americans. I do! I spent 11 years working for an Anglo-American company and I can’t honestly think of anyone I met there whom I didn’t like. So there it is, I like Americans.

I was at the top of the Eiffel Tower recently. Just in case you don’t know, this is the tallest structure in Paris (and presumably France?). When you are at the top, there isn’t really anywhere else you can go but down.

So, let’s just recap a little here. I like Americans and I was at the top of the Eiffel Tower (not the bottom, not the middle, and not some intermediate stage in between but the top).

Let me continue.

After spending a pleasant 30 minutes or so exclaiming such things as ‘ooh you can see our house from here’ (which you can) and ‘doesn’t everything look small’ (it does), myself and Darling Wife headed for the lift in order to return to Planet Earth.

Having got in the lift we were waiting for the doors to close when a large (OK, she was fat) American lady waddled over to the entrance. She then proceeded to ask me the silliest question I think I have ever been asked.

‘Is this lift going down?’

Now, I readily admit to not being the sharpest tool in the shed, and I automatically answered ‘yes’. But as we descended, the sheer dumbness of the question finally sank in. The lift doesn’t go sideways; it sure as hell can’t go any higher. Where exactly did our colonial cousin think the damn thing was going? I mean, really.

So there we are. If you can think of a sillier question, please add a comment!

:D

One of the things I enjoy most about living in Paris is sitting at a Pavement Café, drinking ‘un crème’ and just watching the rest of the world hurry by. I can read my paper, ponder on the reason why French ladies take the effort to look pretty while the old slappers in the UK seem to think the shell suit is the height of chic, and just generally relax in the pleasing French climate. One of the things I hate most about Paris is paying 4 to 5 euros for the privilege of doing just that.

5 euros is about £3.50 and that is an awful lot for a cup of hot water, some milk and some coffee beans.

Within 50 meters of our apartment there are 3 cafés and they charge between €3.80 and €4.00 for a cup. My first thoughts were that this was pretty atrocious. However as we have explored the city, we have found that €4.00 is quite acceptable.

I intend to keep a general record of the varying quality and price of the coffee on offer in the city. I am not going to name and shame the individual establishments; after all I’m not the Michelin Guide am I.

The Louvre (so much for not naming and shaming) holds the record for the most expensive cup encountered so far at €5.40. However, given the wonderful surroundings (and the fact that we didn’t pay to enter the museum – it’s free on the first weekend of the month don’t you know) I wasn’t to upset by this.

Worst so far was a Korean Restaurant / Café in the Saint Paul district. €5.00 for a ‘cappuccino’ that was a cup of instant coffee (this is normally a hanging offence in France) and some cocoa powder sprinkled on top. I am not sure whether this should disgust me or if I should admire the sheer cheek of it.

Anyway, all this typing makes me thirsty ‘Garcon, encore sil vous plais!'

We recently went to the Louvre. Just you in case you’ve not heard of it, it’s the biggest museum in Paris. To say that it’s big is something of an understatement really – huge might serve better. What’s even more amazing is that there are very few exhibits older than the mid 19th Century. There is a separate museum in Paris for art from the 1850’s onwards – the Musee d’Orsay.

I am not even going to try and attempt to describe the exhibits, but suffice to say that if you are in Paris and have an interest in museums then the Louvre is the one museum to go to (unless of course you are interested in late 19th and 20th Century art!).

No, the reason for this post is to comment on something that irritates me out of all proportion. The Louvre, and indeed most of, the museums in Paris are free to enter on the first weekend of each month. Countless people, both French and English, seem to be amazed by this wonderful act of generosity on the part of the Paris city government. Worse, everyone seems to assume that I know nothing about this and therefore they go to great lengths to tell me. Then, surprise, surprise, a month later they feel overwhelmed with an urge to tell me again.

“Wow, the Louvre’s free this weekend, blah blah blah” Quite apart from an irresistible urge to correct people’s grammar, I am usually also unavailable to stop myself from pointing out that many of the museums in London are free all year round. Secondly, not being senile and having lived in Paris for 2 years now, I am fully aware of the fact I can visit any museum in Paris for no charge on the first weekend of every month thank you very much.

It’s not as if you are making that much of a saving either. The entrance fee to the Louvre is only about 8 euros or so. Given that it takes almost a day to walk around the place, that’s pretty good value for money.

However the prospect of something for nothing is an irresistible lure for many people. It took us about 20 minutes to queue to get into the museum and most of the famous exhibits were surrounded by hordes of people. As for the Mona Lisa (one of the most famous paintings on the planet) it was impossible to get anywhere near it. So if or perhaps when I next visit, I’ll be going on a normal paying day and most likely during the week.

Finally, I must say that Darling Wife is not immune to the temptations of a freebie. I am beginning to dread these first weekends of the month because I just know I will be presented with a list of venues that ‘we simply must visit –after all it’s free you know’