My first blogpost in a while

They told me it would happen.  but I didn't listen. They told me to make a conscious effort on the blogosphere or it would cast me aside like so much out-of-date brioche (my breakfast-lunch-dinner today incidentally). 

So here I am, with two months worth of things to write about and no idea where to begin. I think I'll just start in the middle (that's always a good place to start right?)

Time of my life

No kidding, these last couple mois have probably been the best of my vie, and let me tell you I'm not one prone to exaggeration. Literally the BEST of my life guyz, like seriously. (OK maybe I exaggerate a bit.)

It included my first music festival, first live sports event, first alcoholic beverage and first French film (only kiddin' on that third one). I know what you're thinking though, how had I never done those things before?!

Me and my plastic cup full of er...water.

The highlight of Rock En Seine (the music festival) had to be my little adventure getting in. 

Having decided that paying 7 euros for a drink was a bit ridicule, I decided to smuggle in a bottle of (probably bootlegged) substance from my local corner shop, Now I've had my fair share of brushes with the law but the patdown at the entrance to the festival felt like it lasted 5 minutes. On second thought I have been working out, so maybe the guy just wanted to see what a real man feels like. I don't know, I'm not a psychic. 

Either way, it turned out to be a good idea hiding the bottle in a rather private place (say no more). Getting it out was a rather delicate matter. Plunging my hand into ny shorts in front of the queue at the hot dog stand was interesting to say the least.

Oh, and I guess Green Day weren't bad either.

The British Invasion

Since my last blog-post Paris has been invaded, nay, infested by British people. Yes British students, with our adorable tea-consuming, tourist-y, binge drinking  habits. Bringing British culture to France, five shots at a time.

Goddamn tourists eh...

The only problem with this is that I seem to be spending about 84% of my time speaking in English, even though I spend about 76% of my life at the (very French) office. Don't question the maths, just go with it.

I've decided just going to have to make a concerted effort to meet French people. Although sometimes with my limited vocabulary I tend to panic, leading to situations like below:

Intern 1: So did you guys get up to much over the weekend?

Intern 2: Yeah I went back to Brussels to visit my parents and dog, it was pretty fun

Me (having done lots, but not knowing how to put it into French on a Monday morning): Yeah so speaking of weekends, how do you both feel about Hollande's presidency compared to Sarkozy's?

Interns 1+2: ....

Well that's it for today folks, I'm back on the blogosphere now though so keep your eyes peeled for another post in the next few days/weeks/months. (Delete as appropriate) 

Look sharp.

Peace from Paris.

My first trip to a museum

Another (mis)adventure at the supermarché

It's always the person in front of you in a queue isn't it? I want to track down whoever Sod is and assassinate him for his stupid law.

Yesterday I was in the queue at my local FranPrix (the site of my other escapades, including the infamous "condoms in the bread" one). Just bought some ingredients for my dinner sandwiches and want to check out, when this drunk guy cuts in front and whacks a six-pack onto the counter. He then proceeds to fiddle with change and tries to pay for it with a 50 cent coin and a folded up bit of paper. 

Can you believe the cashier had the cheek to refuse his honest payment? The value of folded up bits of paper has really plummeted with the recent economic climate. A 5 minute argument ensued, all with suit-clad me standing there clutching a loaf of bread and some cheese. Surreal to say the least.

Obligatory gripe about the metro

I've found another sickening thing about the metro. It's full of couples. Happy, happy couples. Sickening, right?

Right on, Ted

On the plus side, it looks like French girls have fairly low standards, which can only be a good thing.

The Musée d'Orsay

Me and some friends met up on Saturday and we decided to hit the Musée d'Orsay. We got here pretty late so couldn't see much but managed to cover the main artists, Monet and Van Gogh etc.

My favourite bit of art? Probably this bench:

Let it never be said that I am an art heathen.

Peace from Paris.

My first sortie out of Paris

Vienna is awesome.

So last weekend was my cousin's engagement. Chance has it that her family decided to settle in the cultural capital of Europe, very considerate of them. Looked like my first intra-Europe was on the cards.

RER < Metro

This involved me dashing off from work insanely early (translation for normal people: half 4) and taking the RER out to Charles De Gaulle all the way in Zone 5, which is incidentally not covered by my metro pass. Like the wild child I am, I got on the train anyway. Take that The Man, I stuck it to you good. After all, life is for living.

Metro - please accept my sincerest apologies for anything bad I may have ever said about you. The RER is Paris' overground train service that extends far out of the metro's reach. It's the metro's bigger, uglier older brother (much like mine). Compared to it, the metro is a positively spiritual experience (if you can get over the all-pervading smell of urine).

The impressive CDG Aeroport

I started off my trip at Charles De Gaulle Terminal 1, where (after bearing the crushing disappointment of almost being upgraded to business), I was really impressed.

Imagine serenely gliding along this walkalator with classical music playing

Nothing of note to mention on the flights apart from an American family who were seated all around the plane because they hadn't booked tickets. One of their 7(ish) old daughters happened to be sitting next to me looking very unhappy. I offered to switch seats so she could be closer to her parents, at which point the Dad asked me to switch with him so he could sit next to her.

My heart pretty much melted when she grabbed onto me and insisted that "no, he can stayy!". 

You can call me Monsieur Charming.

The Engagement Party

So after much stressing about and a looong make-up session, the ladies emerged from their lair all looking lovely and we headed off to the hotel.

I was told at pretty short notice that I was gonna be Master of Ceremonies and had a couple of speeches to make, Exactly the way I like it - spontaneity is the spice of life. It's exhilarating having 160ish people hooked on your every mot and having no idée what you're saying. One thing I should have done was to introduce myself. The guests were probably wondering who the snappily-dressed, eloquent young man en stage was.

This half of the audience was paying attention at least - they were my favourite half

The party itself was IMMENSE. The DJ began the fiesta with some bhangra and I kickstarted the dancing throwing some crazy shapes. Helped that every single one of the guests was so cool. A big shout-out to all the awesome people I met =D (my first and probably last emoticon on here - that's how much I loved you guys).

I had so much fun that I'm feeling sad to be back in Paris. I know, crazy right!?

So, all in all, taking a day off and breaking 18 months of continuous work by the interns before me was, oh, about 2505% worth it?

Peace from Paris.

My first run-in with the law

So I went for my first haircut in France last week - I thought the French were meant to be good with hair!? My hair currently looks like an angry, fluffy porcupine. I spend ages picking out a haircut I like, give it to the guy and what does he do but chuck it to one side. Hairdressers here seem to have their own "beautiful vision" of they want to do your hair. 

Taxi drivers and barbers are among the best therapists our society has to offer and I'm pretty sure the barber's chair and driver's back-seat have solved a lot of people's problems. However, my several attempts to strike up a conversation were met by a stony French wall of silence.  French people continue to welcome me with open arms.

A dead week at work

Boredom + middle-aged French women = you're gonna have a bad time.

August is a dead month in Paris, it might as well not exist. My colleagues, all middle-aged women tackle the boredom by singing/dancing to English chart songs. On Wednesday we had Call Me Maybe followed by Moves like 'Jigga' by 'Maroon Cinq'. Then they got so bored they started calling each other on the internal phones - hilarious. All the while I'm sitting there pretending to look busy willing the clock to tick faster.

Lunch that day was a blessing: 

Looks more like a post-lash meal than a Parisian lunch

The Dark Knight tries to sell me something

Also, went to see Dark Knight Rises twice last week - wow. After the Savoy's 50" screens and tinny sound system, Christian Bale's gravelly tones and Bane's barely comprehensible mumbling blew me away.

The waiting area at the cinema - nice

On the way back, one of the metro gates at the station was open so to save all of 0.5 seconds I go through. Some guy comes up to me, says something incomprehensible and flashes something fluorescent orange (not what you're thinking). 

Thinking he's trying to sell me something I give him a quick "non, merci" and try to get past. He shoves the orange thing at me again and it turns out he's a RATP officer; the metro gate was open on purpose to tempt innocent souls like me into waltzing through.

Coincidentally, my caucasian friend did the exact same thing but didn't get stopped by the dodgy-looking Arab guy. Racism (it's only racist when it's against me). Either way, that's got to be entrapment.

The metro redeems itself

I usually don't have anything nice to say about the metro but something that happened last week restored my faith in humanity just a tiny bit. It was a fairly busy time for the metro and there weren't any seats free. Before I could even offer mine, two typical Parisian rudeboys (complete with sagging trousers) gave up their seats for an elderly couple who had just got on the train. Goes to show - don't judge a book by its cover, but by its actions. (Well, books can't physically do much but you get what I mean).

I'm a big ol' softy really.

Peace from Paris.

My first paycheck

Went to pick up my bank card today, and in the process found out that my first paycheck had come in! Good thing too because the money I had since coming out here was on its last legs (i.e. had no legs left at all). Also I now have 4 bank accounts, check me out. Becoming a proper businessman - the suits, the bank accounts, all I need now is a cape and fangs.

Artist's representation of how much I earned

I've found out it's also much easier to spend money in a currency you're not familiar with. You sort of think "these sheets of paper and lumps of metal can buy me things?!" and not "holy crap, I have no money left to eat now". I'm slowly starting to appreciate the value of the Euro though, even if Greece and Spain may soon make that a pointless endeavour (ooh topical).

My new favourite word

Apologies to the supporteurs of "pardon" but I've made room in my coeur for another word. Are you ready? It's the humble, unassuming "d'accord". For non French-speakers, it means...er it means... well it can mean a huge variety of things, which is one of the main reasons I love it so much! Meanings vary from "alright" to "sounds good" to "yes, I'll do that 3000 word translation for you, you lazy...". 

It's the standard "smile, nod and hope it wasn't a question" but you have a word in your arsenal that makes this approche even more effective. And you thought it wasn't possible!

The only downfall of this approach is if it actually was a question and you didn't clock on. The French have a bad habit of not intoning the end of their sentences to make it a question. So quelquefois that leads to situations like:

Me: "So how was your weekend?"

Them: "Yeah pretty good actually, just lounged around. What did you do?"

Me: "Yeah, right."

Update - My experiment on the Paris metro

If you haven't read my earlier post (go read it right now), this experiment consisted of trying to bring cheer to the metro by looking as cheerful as possible when I'm on it. I can tell you that it's going pretty well so far. It gives you a surprising amount of courage knowing that you won't ever see any of the people on the train again. However, I have decided to lose the manic smile and have settled for a conservative half-smile instead.

For the miserable French though, I'm practically Santa Claus.

On a side-note:

"A single step can change your life"

Step Up 4 is called "Sexy Dance 4" in France. Make of that what you will.

Peace from Paris.

My first time making a fool out of myself (not)

Encounter with a tramp

So there I am, sitting on a bench near where I live eating a fruit salad just minding my own business. This tramp emerges from nowhere and sits next to me - no big deal, maybe he just craves human contact. Then he starts talking to me, in some dialect I could barely understand (Hobo-ish), so in a flash of genius I decide to pretend I'm German. A gruff "Entschuldigung, ich bin Deutsch" manages to ward him off. Crisis averted.

There's a positive correlation between the amount of sun in a park and the number of attractive girls in said park

A false friend

For a bunch of French words, you can get away with just saying the English word in a French accent. 

Example: "Competition" -> "Compeetiizition" (That's my poor representation of a written French accent).

There's others you'd think you can do the same with but mean radically different things. I found this out the hard way in my local branch of Franprix. Again feeling quite confident for some reason, I decided to ask one of the stackers why the bread lasts so long: 

"Y a t-il beaucoup de préservatifs dans le pain ici?". If you don't study French, this might seem alright to you. But preservative/préservatif is one of those false friends you can't Frenchify. 

So basically, I asked her "Are there many condoms in the bread here?". Not exactly what I meant... There seems to be a trend emerging between me feeling confident in my language skills and making a fool out of myself in supermarkets - awesome.

Interesting day at work

I went out with a few fellow Nottingham Parisians yesterday for more than a few drinks yesterday night (nice meeting y'all). Had the worst gueule de bois (hangover) this morning and faced a 9-6 day - nightmare. The fact there was a random dog on the metro should have warned me today was not gonna be a normal day. Literally just got on the train without a care in the world.

Dog chilling on the train - casual.

After a beautiful typical Parisian lunch, I literally fell asleep at my desk for 5 minutes. I was tempted to go to the toilet just to take a powernap but then one of the most surreal things that I've ever seen happened.

Imagine waking up to 5 people randomly dancing in the middle of the office. I know, pretty surreal eh. Apparently, they were watching some flashmob video on YouTube and decided to join in.

I like it here!

Peace from Paris.

My first Tour de France

What a weekend.

In total contrast to last weekend, this one was hectic - I actually stepped out of the house (I know, but it gets even better).

Friday - dinner on the Champs Elysées

Friday it was time to meet up with an old friend - of which there seem to be plenty floating around, weirdly.

So I'm standing on the platform, waiting for the train that will take me to the restaurant (on the Champs Elysées no less), when a timid-looking girl sidles up to me and awkwardly gestures at the tracks "Eiffel Tower"? Seeing as she clearly wasn't sure if I spoke English, I was tempted to shrug (in a convincingly French way - maybe with a little "putain" for credibility) and say something like: "Désolé mais je parle pas anglais". Realising it wasn't a big deal being able to convince a foreigner I was a native speaker, and slightly taking pity on her, I summoned my most reassuring British accent. Turns out Diane's Australian and left to live the dream in Europe. Respect. Totally should have got her "06".

The restaurant we ate at served a combination of French and German food, and was pretty good if pretty expensive. €22ish euros got me 2 courses which ain't bad at all for the Champs. The food was pretty good but the wine left something to be desired - a "vintage" 2009 just won't cut it. Food - the kraut was pretty damn sauer and the crème pretty damn brûlée (I could be a food critic), but that didn't stop it being demolished in a minute flat.

Objects in image taste better than they appear

Saturday - Friends made, Money lost

Nothing much happened on the Saturday, apart from a poker game with the flatmates where I met my first real live French stereotype (minus beret). The less said about the poker game the better. Went from being chip leader to losing all my significant stake of 7 euros with 2 pair (Aces and 10s), and on a bad beat. So that was Saturday.

Sunday - Tour de France

Man did I regret going to bed at 4am on Sunday morning. First, I overslept and thought I'd missed the Tour de France (missing Bastille day still haunts me) and then was halfway to the station before I realised my camera was uncharacteristically light. Apparently, you need batteries.


After navigating my way out of the metro station, which took about as long as the actual metro trip, I met up with a certain co-Parisian and we headed off to the Champs to catch some cycling action. Easier said than done - the roads were packed and it didn't help the gendarmes had closed half of said roads. 


After hunting for a spot, we found one that was poifect but it wasn't long before we were under attack...two diminutive Vietnamese women's blitzkrieg caught us by surprise. I bend over to tie my shoelace and by the time I've straightened up they have me surrounded. Pincer movement - oldest trick in the  book. Being a fiercely territorial creature, I held my ground and saw out their offensive until they eventually backed down. Victory.


They may take our personal space, but they'll never take..our freedom!

Sergeant Green calling in reinforcements

I took my camera in the hope of getting some awesome photos but the place was infested with other photographers and it was near impossible to get good shots. By the end I was just rapid-firing above my head - the 'shoot and hope' manoeuvre. Managed to get a few passable ones, check my Facebook over the next few days.

If I ever find out whose head this is, they won't have one left after I'm done with 'em

So a pretty sweet weekend all in all! Roll on the rest of the year abroad.


Peace from Paris.

My first drinks in Paris

So I went out for the first time in Paris today. The term might conjure images of...well it might not conjure any images at all if a certain substance features heavily. Binge-drinking aside, the French (unfortunately or fortunately) seem to have a much more reserved and cultured idea of sortir. That being said, all I did was grab a few drinks at a bar so I might be being unfair to French night-life, we'll see.

Cheering up a cashier

So after having a few drinks with an old friend, I made my way home but not before stopping at the local supermarché to pick up some dinner. Perhaps it was the fact that I'd had a pretty good day or maybe the cocktails were catching up to me (more probable), but I was feeling rather buoyant as I strolled in so I thought I'd strike up a conversation with the miserable-looking cashier. She didn't seem impressed as I greeted her with 'Bonjour Monsieur' then proceeded to forget all my pre-constructed 'spontaneous' small talk. Time to retreat - some battles are best fought another time, and also in a language you know.

The pot de départ

Three of the five interns at the company are leaving this week so we had a little farewell party at the office today. 

Free food, drink and forced conversation

After a few short speeches, people started trickling out until it was pretty much the youngest five in the office left. When the adults are away, the interns will play; most of the two bottles of champagne was consumed by our generation today. Stereotypes are a wonderful thing. This was also the first time I'd properly socialised with the colleagues, and they're not so bad after all (despite the Frenchness). The French are people too, who knew?

Otto's leaving means I'll have more work to do but on the plus side, I get a sweet desk out of it. Like I said, life's a game of give and take.

Monsieur Badrinath can't take your call right now, he's busy posing for a photo

My Metro experiment

Yes, it's another paragraph on the metro. Not a critique today but just an experiment I'm going to try out. Since everyone on the metro looks like they're at a funeral (maybe one for personal space), I've decided I'm going to try and look as cheerful as I possibly can  when I'm on the train from now on. My own little rebellion against miserability.

The face that will bring cheer to the metro/get me arrested

A note on awkwardness

I thought I should quickly address the issue since our generation seems obsessed with the term. If you think you know awkward, think again. There's nothing worse than an awkward situation in another language. Not only can you barely make conversation but you can't pre-empt any awkwardness because you don't have the linguistic skill. This was painfully obvious at the leaving party; if you're me you just point out the closest thing you know the French word for. 

So in a lull in converation, I randomly blurted out "tomate".

Peace from Paris.

My first proper weekend in Paris

Completely forgot it was Bastille day ce weekend. The biggest holiday in the French calendrier and fwit, right over my head. That would explain the signs advertising "BASTILLE DAY" offers outside shops and restaurants. The main reason I didn't realise is because apparently the French don't get a day off when a public holiday falls on a weekend. Not so lazy after all.

Saturday

In other news my flatmate's phone was almost stolen at a metro station today!

Apparently he ran after the guy and after a few minutes the thrilling chase culminated with a rather anticlimactic "I found your phone on the floor mate". In French of course, not the aggressive Cockney brogue I translated it into in my head. No-one better pull that stuff with me or they'll face the full force of my poorly conjugated insults and tame French swear words.

Then that night, me and my flatmates got takeaway. It's Domino's so I was a bit cautious having been told it's nothing compared to its British contrepartie. One of them innocently suggests the 'Indienne' one for me - what a stereotype, unbelievably offensant. 


(...It does sound awesome though, so I go for it). 

Someone at Domino's is a stickler for French grammar

After we've polished off the pizza, the poker set comes out. It starts off fairly casual, but as the others are knocked out one by one, it ends up being an intense heads-up between me and a guy who's been playing in casinos for years. A few hands later, I'm surprised I'm up on him. Apparently I have an uncanny ability to unsettle opponents that throws 'em off their game. Something about unpredictability and playing hands fast and loose. Don't know if that's exactly something to be proud of but at the very least, I have a bright career in professional poker if the whole graduation thing doesn't work out!

Stop me, I'm a madman

Sunday

While making a sandwich for dinner (nothing wrong with that), I discovered bread lasts a lot longer here in Paris. A loaf I bought all the way back on my first day is still in date. Probably some unholy French process that's illegal elsewhere.

Went roaming for a bit to make up for missing Bastille Day but this city is a ghost town (/city) on Sundays. So I came back to watch TV (Suits is awesome). I've started assigning the characters to people in my office. This should make things interesting, especially as I have  Donna, the receptionist with an attitude, down (with the lady who answered the phone "Oui boii").


The year abroad dream will have to wait till next week but all in all, not a bad weekend.

Peace from Paris.

My first pizza in Paris

OK so the title isn't as catchy as the others but I had to complete the Holy Trinity of "My First..." posts, this is probably the last you'll hear of them (ha).

Day 3 of my working life

My third jour of life as an intern (pronounced: errand boy) and things are going pretty well. Apart from the fact I had to wait 20 minutes for someone to let me into the office, goddamn lazy French. But something me and Otto translated from English -> French yesterday was published by a bunch of media outlets today so that's pretty cool!

Being a working man, It's good not having to worry whether there's any work in the next day (and doing it the morning it's due if you're me), but you do have to sell your soul to the rat race. Ah well, life's a trade-off.

Life (n.): The art of substituting one set of problems for another.

Déjeuner

For lunch we went to a nice pizza place, which are apparently rare in Paris, just around the corner. I order a calzone and it looks delish but after some preliminary excavations, under the disapproving gaze of the old guy next to me, I found the meat to cheese ratio was disappointingly low. I'd put a photo of it here but it was devoured (by me, in case you're wondering) before I got the chance. So here's a picture of what I had yesterday.

Handily comes to  €8.30, my daily allowance exactly

After the massive lunch things began to go downhill as I started dozing off (as lions do after a meal). The emails began to pour in and by the end of the day I was burnt out good and proper.

But as soon as I put on some Coldplay on the way to the metro station, a nice calm settled over me, blocking out the bustle of the city.

...Promptly and resoundingly shattered by the Paris metro.

Let me give you a visual of what riding the Paris metro is like: think suit-wearing sardines in a rectanguloid can, accompanied occasionally by the odd sardine tramp. Doesn't help that the aforementioned sardines are starting to slowly melt in the heat.

I've also found out that the only French word you really need in Paris is "pardon". 

Bumped into someone? "Pardon"

Want to get through a crowd? "Pardon"

Need to have an in-depth discussion on the Higgs Boson? "Pardon" (+ hasty exit)

Navigating the way through your fellow travellers to the train door is almost as compliqué as the metro system itself

Now for dinner, a turkey sandwich. Yes I still can't cook.

Peace from Paris.

My first day at work

I just got home from work (7.45pm).


As expected, my year abroad is full of firsts. And today was my first day as a proper grown-up. I commuted, sat at a desk, got bored - the whole deal!

First off, I have to say I'd forgotten how good it is to wear a suit! You can walk around like you own the place and no-one seems to mind - comes with the territoire of being a young man looking dapper in a suit I guess.

Who's that handsome S.O.B?

My day started at 7.45 (and not 7 as I planned thanks to the damn snooze button) and I found myself running late for the metro at 8.52 avec a train in front of me. I jumped on not knowing if it was headed in the right direction; luckily that gamble worked out and meant I was only 12 minutes en retard.

Now when I say late, I mean by British standards. I end up being the second personne into the office, the French aren't doing much to bust the whole lazy stereotype so far... I'm directed to the sofa and wait patiently to hear my fate. A youngish looking guy walks past and I give him a hopeful "Bonjour". Turns out he's the current stagiaire from Nottingham - bingo!


Side-note: I've found a pretty useful way of introducing myself. "Pratheek - comme le mot" (Pratheek - like the word). The French pronounce me 'pratique', their word for practical. Not as cool as "Bond, James Bond" but cool enough. For now.


I get my own laptop and after running me through the daily routine (cheers Otto), my mentor for the day and I head off for lunch. A Subway's right around the corner and I'm on it like Sonic. I bet they wouldn't be as receptive to my banter as the guys at my local Notts branch (mainly because it'll be in broken and mispronounced French). Big up Travis, Nasser and the rest of the crew. Yes I'm on first name terms with them, got a problem? 

Looks like lunch from now till January is sorted

The view from the park we had lunch at

One of the highlights of the day has to be one of my colleagues answering the phone with "Oui boii". I think I'm gonna like it here.

Peace from Paris.