This was the week that was

So this was the week where Cecilia and Nicolas Sarkozy got divorced, I had my knees x-rayed, I was forced to walk across vast tracts of Paris due to the transport strike and England lost the Rugby World Cup Final. I don’t really have much to say about the first and last point, apart from: ‘Thank some divine deity that that is all over.’

As for the x-ray fiasco, well the fact that a month after I went arse over tit in those gorgeous but extremely inconvenient shoes and still can’t kneel down meant that I was sent merrily to my nearest ‘Centre de Radiologie’. The knees were duly x-rayed and as I suspected nada was broken. My final diagnosis was to give up praying!

And so to the Transport Strike. Now in reality I like walking across vast tracts of Paris. I love looking at the ivy glowing scarlet as the sun shines through the leaves. I love peering through the windows of the Tibetan tea shops and reminiscing about how I watched Liverpool beat West Ham in that pub. I thoroughly enjoy walking across Paris when I CHOOSE to do so, NOT, when I am forced to do so by the transport unions. I don’t like not knowing how I am going to get home from work, or considering not trekking across town to meet my friend who has flown in from Madrid, or missing the surprise element of my colleague’s surprise birthday party because I couldn’t get a taxi for love nor money and then got stuck on a metro full of tossers (otherwise known as England Rugby fans). I am particularly pissed off that the one day Transport strike stretched into THREE. I am also slightly miffed that the Transport Unions are beginning to make me question whether unions are a good thing and whether Transport workers should have the privilege of retiring at 50 whereas the rest of us face the prospect of never retiring because by the time we get really old the Government won’t have any money left to pay our pensions. In fact, I don’t even like thinking about getting really old because in my dreams I will win the lottery and buy a flat and become a hermit (who occasionally lunches) and writes all the time. I’ll have a big lounge for cool parties, a really comfy bedroom, a big bathroom and maybe a little garden. Oh and there will be a study too, with a lot of blank walls where I can stick my post-its. You see I have spent a lot of time nurturing this dream and the fact that the transport unions have burst my bubble is extremely unkind of them.

Here are some photos from last week’s Fete de la Vendange. I walked to that; I walked up the extremely steep hill gladly; twice.

Phoktober 15^th

This guy was providing entertainment before I even got to the Fete.

Phoktober 16^th

There were all sorts at this Fete.

Phoktober 17^th

Like I said all sorts.

Phoktober 18^th

And lots of entertainment.

Phoktober 19^th

And then these started showing up all over the place.

Phoktober 20^th

Phoktober 21^st