Sophia this picture was actually taken in Paris.

(Source: sophiaconleche)

Hello, sorry for not telling you but I’ve been in Berlin this week. I’ve just got back home and I already have post-holiday blues. I had a really good time discovering a new city and remembering what it’s like to be somewhere where you don’t understand a word they’re saying to you (it’s been many years since I’ve holidayed in a non-franco or anglophone country). But there were a few ‘turning points’ (à la History Boys) that really make me think and reflect.

Like homophobia-driven confrontations on the dance floor of a night club in a 21st century capital city. Excuse me?! I mean, in the middle of a Lebanese shopping centre or an Abu Dhabi business meeting this sort of behaviour wouldn’t be altogether unexpected, but is it really in Europe? Inversely, I understand also that seeing two guys necking one another on a night out isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but tolerance is the name of the game, or failing that just not behaving like a total savage.

Otherwise my impressions of Germany on my first ever visit were good. A French guide book I bought talked for pages and pages about the ‘coldness’ of the Germans, though I found the truth to be the polar opposite. I actually think the French could learn an awful lot from the Germans’ openness and hospitality. In fact the thing I enjoy the absolute most about travelling to different places and meeting new people is, as cliché as it may sound, seeing how much we all stand to learn from others. How to act, how to think, how to live. To drop the frustrating coincé and superior attitude of the French, the ignorance and pig-headedness of the English, in favour of a more German attitude. And I’m sure there are some that would do it better than the Germans, so I would love to find that place and learn even more.

Anyway, I’m all alone in my flat since I flew back a day earlier than all my friends due to work commitments. Yes, the post-holiday blues have been brought on much quicker all thanks to the fact that tomorrow morning I have to get myself out of bed to go to work like an idiot for 12 hours for the most horrible man in Paris who is always happy to count the till at the end of the night but has never to date thought about the benefits of thanking the staff that make him the very wealthy and odious man that he is.

He too has a lot to learn.

Yesterday I saw this laptop bag in Maison de Ville, a wonderful shop a few doors down from my apartment and I just knew I had to have it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day today so went back and bought it.

It’s super green and super gay, but fuck it. I do live in the Gay Marais in Gay Paris and a splash of ostentatious leather in a vibrant colour against my usual muted shirt-and-jumper combination is hardly the most offensive thing that I could do to my innocent Catholic upbringing. So I’m embracing it.

(Also I did ask the shop assistant her advice on colours and walked up and down the shop in front of a mirror seeing which one was best. That is the gayest thing of all).

In case you hadn’t noticed, generally speaking I’ve had an awful January 2011 so far. This was not remedied by even more bad news at work this evening. Afterwards though I went out, had fun, and then walking home I found twenty euros on the floor outside the Pompidou Centre.

Every cloud has a silver lining?

The University of London Institute in Paris - three days a week of pure, organic, force-fed bollocks.

It’s a hugely depressing thought that I’ve got another 18 months of this unbearable, pathetic excuse for a university, during which period I can no longer miss one single lesson (yes, I just received a formal warning for absence under the new system imposed on us by Royal Holloway, who refuse to believe we exist when we need them but enforce us to comply with their ridiculous policies and procedures which are nigh-on impossible to fall into line with when you live in a country as politically and bureaucratically backward as France, a system which is implemented in different ways by different members of staff and not fully understood by the student body or union).

One more absence between now and end of term 2012 and I fail my degree.

Having unwillingly spent a lot of time in and around airports this Christmas I’ve noticed that there are two definite types of people: those who travel smart and those who travel comfy.

Today I travelled smart, as always, but now I’m back in Paris I’m going for a McDonald’s before getting ready for work this evening. (My excuse? I’ve been away, there’s no food in the fridge).

Reason #4583 why I love Paris.

Santa Claus brass band outside the Louvre in the snow.

Today at work I met and chatted with a very lovely woman who turned out to be Katarznya Figura, a rather prominent Polish actress.

She’d been to a film festival in Reims and decided to nip down to Paris for a bit and visit her favourite wine bar here. (That’s where I come in).

In May she’s back in Paris doing a play and she’s promised to come back and bring me tickets.

(Nicolas Sarkozy’s brother also dined with us this lunchtime, but I liked the actress more).

Welcome to Paris; where beautiful architecture meets crowds of angry protesters.

fuckyeahkanyewest:

legendary

This is frustrating me. Kanye West is currently in Paris and SO AM I. Please, if there is really a lord of any kind out there, let me cross Kanye  at some point over the next few days. Paris is only 33 square miles from one side to the other, it’s surely not that unlikely to bump into my favourite person in the world, is it?

I’m back in Paris and it’s Freshers’ Week (hence the lack of activity). And this exchange actually seriously took place at the Eurostar security gates at St Pancras.

French Security Woman: That’s a big bag, how many guhns have you got in there?
Me: Uhh.. excuse me?
FSW: How many guhns are you hiding in there?
M: How many guns?
FSW: Yes, ha ha ha.
M: I haven’t got any guns.
FSW: No… GUHLS. Guhls. How many guhls are you hiding in your bag?
M: Oh, girls?
FSW: Yes! Girls, girlfriends. Ha ha ha ha ha.
M: Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Umm.. none?

After I’d left the security desk (gun and girl free, I’m pleased to report) and my heart began to stop pounding in my chest, I thought a bit more about what just happened. Obviously joking about guns at an international train station when the threat of terror on France has ‘never been higher’ is inappropriate. But why is it cool to jest about hiding people in suitcases? Human trafficking is bad too.

So I’ve finally found a new apartment in Paris! Well, honestly speaking my flatmate did all the finding, I have just been involved in transferring money.

The property is situated right in the centre of Paris in the 4th arrondissement, which, for those of you that don’t know, is largely dominated by a district called Le Marais. 

Le Marais - or as I affectionately like to call it, the Simon Amstell quarter - is rich in history and is traditionally credited as the Jewish area of Paris. Much like a more bourgeois Golder’s Green. In recent years, however, it has been more commonly associated with gay culture and is home to many of the finest, seediest and quite often downright disgusting gay bars, clubs, cafés and hotels that France has to offer.

The flat itself sits on the third floor above a bakery called Legay Choc (‘Legay’ actually being quite a common French surname despite it meaning exactly what you think it means). The choc (or ‘shock’ in English) is evident from its product list including this enormous penis-shaped loaf. In fact, I understand that the bakery sells nothing but phallic breads and confectioneries.

I’m quite excited to move in when I get back to Paris, though I feel the surroundings of the apartment could make quite a talking point when the grandparents come to stay.

I’m in a very privileged position in that my flat overlooks the bus stop. This is especially helpful to test the online bus timetable.

“RATP, tell me how long until the next bus into Paris!”

“Le bus est déjà à l’arret, Matthew. Va regarder si tu me crois pas.”

“Oh yeah.. it’s there. You win this one, RATP, but just you wait. JUST YOU WAIT.”

bonparisien:

(via cutte)

There seems to be a growing niche for eiffel tower porn.

(Or maybe it’s just me..?)