As I've grown older I've become more aware of "signs" that God presents to me on occasion. Right now I'm sitting at my office desk admiring the large soft snowflakes drifting down onto the busy street below the office here in Levallois-Perret.
It's a lovely sight with the backdrop of the Seine behind; and even the fake white Christmas trees in the traffic circle seem a bit more lifelike as a result.
I've been quite lucky in my life and my health. A nice flurry of snow to cover the streets is another reminder to us all of gifts we are given.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Keith's Arrival Day!
Camembert cheese and a baguette. A fitting dinner for my first official night in Paris. I should have picked up a bottle of wine as well but I just forgot while at the store down the street. Dammit!
The flight from San Jose to Paris (routed through Dallas) wasn’t bad. I guess I’m getting used to these flights (9 hours from Dallas to Paris) or 4 glasses of Bordeaux and a shot of Whiskey after dinner really does help. I can’t remember and that’s a good thing.
I don’t chat too much with people on plane trips, but this flight was a little unique as there was a 20s-something lady sitting in the middle row that had about 30 people on the flight acknowledge her as they moved pass her down the aisle. Dying to figure out if she was a celebrity, the lady in the “A” seat finally leaned over me to ask Ms 20-something “are you someone important I should know”? It turns out that this was the daughter of the Ministry of Economics for Afghanistan – there was a large group of people going to Paris for a liberal Muslim religious convention and about 30-40 of the people on the plane had known her “since she was in diapers”. It’s a small world and although this lady was born and resided in Dallas all her life she did tell interesting stories.
Finally entering France “officially” consisted of a bored customs officer briefly scanning my passport and handing it back to me. When I pointed to my residence visa and asked him to stamp it (needed for residence), he looked a bit confused but eventually stamped it anyway. Five minutes to get my bags, ten minutes wait for a fifty Euro cab ride and “poof” I’m in Paris. It’s just too easy.
I’m currently staying at an “Apartment Hotel” near the Champs-Elysees. It’s a small studio with a tiny kitchen with really crappy tv reception, but for just one person it’s not too bad. I decided to go to the office for a few hours in the afternoon to get acquainted with everything, and it’s a relatively painless walk to the Metro and to the office in Levallois. 25 minutes door to door.
The highlight of my walk back from the Metro was the huge Grand Marnier distillery one block away from my hotel. There’s certainly a lot to be savored in Paris. Especially if I stop to pick up a bottle or two.
The flight from San Jose to Paris (routed through Dallas) wasn’t bad. I guess I’m getting used to these flights (9 hours from Dallas to Paris) or 4 glasses of Bordeaux and a shot of Whiskey after dinner really does help. I can’t remember and that’s a good thing.
I don’t chat too much with people on plane trips, but this flight was a little unique as there was a 20s-something lady sitting in the middle row that had about 30 people on the flight acknowledge her as they moved pass her down the aisle. Dying to figure out if she was a celebrity, the lady in the “A” seat finally leaned over me to ask Ms 20-something “are you someone important I should know”? It turns out that this was the daughter of the Ministry of Economics for Afghanistan – there was a large group of people going to Paris for a liberal Muslim religious convention and about 30-40 of the people on the plane had known her “since she was in diapers”. It’s a small world and although this lady was born and resided in Dallas all her life she did tell interesting stories.
Finally entering France “officially” consisted of a bored customs officer briefly scanning my passport and handing it back to me. When I pointed to my residence visa and asked him to stamp it (needed for residence), he looked a bit confused but eventually stamped it anyway. Five minutes to get my bags, ten minutes wait for a fifty Euro cab ride and “poof” I’m in Paris. It’s just too easy.
I’m currently staying at an “Apartment Hotel” near the Champs-Elysees. It’s a small studio with a tiny kitchen with really crappy tv reception, but for just one person it’s not too bad. I decided to go to the office for a few hours in the afternoon to get acquainted with everything, and it’s a relatively painless walk to the Metro and to the office in Levallois. 25 minutes door to door.
The highlight of my walk back from the Metro was the huge Grand Marnier distillery one block away from my hotel. There’s certainly a lot to be savored in Paris. Especially if I stop to pick up a bottle or two.
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