Please forgive typos. This is a parisian keyborard.
I am staying with a friend of my mom`s, in a bequtiful little studio apartment which, to my dismay, is up five winding steep flights of stairs. Paul turns out to be extremely nice and does not actually expect me to speak French (I even wore him out over dinner asking how to say stuff in French), and in fact the OTHER prospective crash space is the one which I will not use - it sounded like I would have reqlly been inconveniencing that person, and also Paul's studio is available for longer than I expected - so I will be there the whole time. There is even only one Baba photo in the studio, though there are tons in the rest of the apartment. Only negative: no net access. I am in a hotel lobby.
I had lunch last night in a lovely little restaurant, price fixe: French onion soup, with a rich oniony broth and a lavish crust of melted cheese, canard (duck) a la orange with what I thought would be lentils but it turns out that legumes means potatoes or vegetables, and the house specilty dessert of sweet Chantilly cream, crisp chunks of crumbled meringue, intense raspberry sorbet, and violet ice cream. I usually like floral desserts, but the latter tipped over from floral into cold perfume; I had to leave it, but the rest was great. No dinner; I was jet-lagged and slept 15 hours.
I am staying with a friend of my mom`s, in a bequtiful little studio apartment which, to my dismay, is up five winding steep flights of stairs. Paul turns out to be extremely nice and does not actually expect me to speak French (I even wore him out over dinner asking how to say stuff in French), and in fact the OTHER prospective crash space is the one which I will not use - it sounded like I would have reqlly been inconveniencing that person, and also Paul's studio is available for longer than I expected - so I will be there the whole time. There is even only one Baba photo in the studio, though there are tons in the rest of the apartment. Only negative: no net access. I am in a hotel lobby.
I had lunch last night in a lovely little restaurant, price fixe: French onion soup, with a rich oniony broth and a lavish crust of melted cheese, canard (duck) a la orange with what I thought would be lentils but it turns out that legumes means potatoes or vegetables, and the house specilty dessert of sweet Chantilly cream, crisp chunks of crumbled meringue, intense raspberry sorbet, and violet ice cream. I usually like floral desserts, but the latter tipped over from floral into cold perfume; I had to leave it, but the rest was great. No dinner; I was jet-lagged and slept 15 hours.
Tags: