Home sweet home

Ah but I’ve gotten ahead of myself. In my love of Paris I have failed to report all the other goings on in our lives here. Firstly, I haven’t even mentioned that my super awesome friend Madeleine came to visit and that we spent a great night eating and drinking at the Jericho Tavern and a very lovely English Sunday afternoon with Mads and some of her Oxford friends, eating and drinking Pimms in the sun at The Perch – a beautiful gastro pub on the river just outside of Oxford.

And I also haven’t mentioned that we spent the following weekend in London at Madeleine’s house and had a fab party weekend with lots of BBQs, world cup watching moments, and partying Avatar style for her sister’s birthday – good to see the fancy dress party fetish extends across the seas. Madeleine – uber coolster that she is – took us to Shunt – one very cool bar in London – right inside the Tower Bridge station the bar/club/art space is situated in what used to be giant old underground wine cellars and is a totally different night out – they put on quirky shows, have trapeze artists, live eclectic music, art installations, and even make your own art areas. And on Sunday we even managed a wee bit of London sightseeing, including a little reminiscing from Cam about the months he spent living here in 2002, and from me, for the fresh-faced, starry-eyed 17 year old I was the last time I wandered the streets of London.

But mostly I have forgotten to mention that we have finally moved into our new home – well we only moved in last Thursday night and then left for Paris on Friday! We now live in Cowley – which for Brisbane folk you can consider the West End of Oxford. It is a little grungier, dirtier and cheaper than the rest of Oxford but also significantly more ethnic, more diverse gastronomically, more entertainment options, and well – more interesting. I like it. And I like our house. It is a ground floor flat in a complex that is set back of the road – so it is really quiet and private and we have a ‘garden’ – which is really just a court yard though I have plans to acquire a green thumb before summer is over (stranger things have happened). It is furnished but has no kitchen stuff (and neither do we) so this week we have slowly been acquiring stuff – it is really amazing how much stuff you need - I think today’s mission will be to buy some pots (I cooked pasta in the wok last night!). The place is decorated a little like an Art Union Prize home and our bed is only a double not a queen and the washing machine is in the kitchen which is weird. But other than it’s great. It is also literally 100m from the Magdalen Arms which was recently voted the best gastro pub in England, and which I can see becoming our regular haunt. Anyway I guess with this move all the pieces in the settling-in phase are done. We’ve been here 7 weeks already, can you believe it. Hopefully the “daily life” phase to come is just entertaining.

Gay Paris

Oh Paris how I love you so.

What an absolutely brilliant city! And that’s coming from someone who doesn’t generally like big cities. Campbell and I spent three fabulous, fun days in the Paris sun and I can honestly say it was not nearly enough. We arrived very early (especially by Parisian standards) Saturday morning, a little worse for wear after a mostly sleepless night on the bus (never again), but thankfully had no trouble negotiating the metro to our hotel. We immediately changed into shorts and thongs (did I mention it was gloriously hot) and headed out for the most welcome breakfast I’ve had in a long time. Perfectly brewed café au lait, freshly squeezed orange juice, a hot golden croissant, and a crusty white baguette with home made butter and strawberry jam. Simply delicious and oh so French. And we devoured all this in beautiful sunshine while partaking in the French people’s favourite pastime – people watching. In fact, this was to be our morning ritual for the rest of the weekend - though we switched from the café to the snack bar version after we saw the bill. And if you’re wondering how it is that French chicky babes stay so thin with all this buttery goodness in their lives (I certainly did), well, I’ll tell you; they smoke like chimneys. In fact, on occasion it felt like everyone in Paris was puffing on a cigarette. But that, and the minimal number of gardens or parks in the city are the only negative things I will say about Paris. Everything else rocks.

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