Domestic Bliss in The City of Lights

An inner struggle of guilt had to be overcome today before I could relax and make the decision to stay in.  Today marks one week since I arrived in the City of Lights and I needed time to relax and regroup.

Even although I don’t really have many belongings the apartment has still managed to become a bit of a tip and it was becoming crunchy underfoot.

The vacuum cleaner I found in the cupboard weighs less than a newborn baby but with 1900 watts of power it did the job.  

There are definitely benefits to living in a small place.  I had vacuumed and moped the floor in record time and actually enjoyed it.  

Anyone who knows me knows that I detest cleaning like the next person.

I have strict instructions not to move things around but  I needed to make my mark.  Mostly just putting some lamps around for some mood lighting and covering a couple of windows that have no curtains.

After so much research and missing out on so many lovely looking apartments, I am very happy with this one.  I love the area and I get a warm fuzzy feeling when I come ‘home’ maybe it is just because it is warm inside but I feel very comfortable here. 

It is nothing flash but it has a gas stove and a very good shower and good heating and a washing machine.

The street is as quiet as a mouse yet right around the corner, it is humming with locals going about their daily routine and barely a tourist to be found.

 

Finally I was able to wash the clothes I arrived in and change the linen. 

There is always that great sense of satisfaction after cleaning and tidying. 

Since I am on the subject of the apartment, there is something else I would like to share, I will apologise in advance but I have held this back for way too long.

It is about the toilet.

When I first arrived, opening and closing doors and drawers and generally fossicking around to acquaint myself with the apartment, I came across a cupboard in the kitchen, well, next to the kitchen.

When I opened, to discover what was inside, I found, the toilet.   

It is ok and they had to put it somewhere, just not sure how I would feel, if I had guests and cooking – you get the picture.

It is like a wind tunnel when I open the door, it has a little window, uncovered that looks out onto the block of apartments behind.  Even worse the seat feels like a block of ice and I brace and grimace every time flesh hits seat.

Can someone send me a sheepskin cover!

As I have an early start tomorrow, I thought it best to pop out to the local Franprix for some fresh milk and thought I would end on my latest observation.

I love the way the French puff out their cheeks and give a small puh! when they are not happy about something.  This is what I witness every time I go to the supermarket whether it be Monoprix or Franprix.

For those of you who don’t know, you have to bag your own groceries, ok that is not a problem.

This is how it works, the check out person, who is generally seated, uninterested, who you get a faint bonjour from, as they slowly scan and throw your purchases down the stainless steel bench.  Next you have to wait for the shopper to sign a cheque, hand over vouchers, pay, forget their pin number and then bag their own groceries.  In the meantime, the queues grow longer and every one stands from one foot to the other, moves closer together in and effort to shorten the line and says puh!

Hey, I am not complaining, I am not in a hurry and it gives me an opportunity to observe the French, going about their every day life.

When in Paris …. do as the Parisians do … puh!