Day Two: The Womble Queen

The day I wombled from here to there to everywhere

Me outside the Opera Theatre - stunning... didn't go inside as it cost 15Euro!

Best bakery in Paris according to Time Out

and below

Sweet flowershop!

Oliver and I managed to be late again meeting Guy - which once again says to me that men take longer to get ready than women... Honestly!!

Another breakfast of pastries and chocolat chaud (which I completely cocked up by pronouncing as it's written - Oh, the French can look down!) I maintain that this pastry eating is OK A) because I'm in Paris and B) because I can't afford anything else, so that's all I eat! Ha!

(Ps if you're on the Weight Watchers - which I am - you'll know an average pastry is about 6 points - meaning I can hace 3 a day and be none the wiser... nutrients-schmotrients)

After Guy looked right then left and nearly got run over by a bus, the boys left for class and since I am now confident on the Metro (was a bit touch and go there) I have the most wonderful day wombling around the city - catching metros to new and exciting areas on a whim and finding the best Patisserie in Paris (truly -Oh my!) shopping in cheapest of cheap shops TATI - great cut pants for NZD$25!! - and sitting in a cafe in Monmatre called Rendez Vous Des Artistes writing poetry. I feel like I'm soaking up so much life and colour and truth - because underneath the charm and glitz of Paris there is a lot of poverty and a lot of injustice - I saw a couple passionately kiss on the side of the Line 6 metro station and the dainty little woman exploded into what I hastily deciphered in my translation dictionary as "I can't be with you any more! It's over!" These ideas are ticking around in my head as points of call for my solo show. It's exciting, terrifying and Oh how I wish I had more time.

With Guy's Time Out Paris reference guide which I've filched off him (recommend to anyone going to Paris - It's great!) I found Harry's New York Bar in the Opera District and 'Je voudrais un Cosmopolitan, s'il vous plait' - easily the strongest cocktail, I've ever had - was like swallowing pure alcohol - so Harry and I chatted and I got a bit tipsy and wrote romantic nonsense to myself in my diary. That was the point where I really, really started to enjoy Paris.

Here's a wee (get it?) video off the best lavaratory I've ever seen - efficient and clean!

Then that night, Guy, Oli and I headed to some friends from Gaullier house for dinner. What a marvellous, motley crew of people! All international and all charming - Mark and Anna made me feel like I was in Notting Hill, Aretha made a beautiful Spanish omelette then charmed me, Engleberg (who Oliver thought was named Englebert much to my amusement!) has the best sense of humour and it basically was just a lovely evening. We broke bread and doused it with feta from a packet and butter in a foil cake, we drank plenty of red wine and then had a sumptuously delicious pasta with mozzerella and tomato and said omelette. I'm in love... with Paris.

Verv and Aretha

Guy and Mark

Guy and Engleborg