Mardi - Because the French do things the way they do, we had to make a return trip to BNP Paribas for some piddling little reason. I guarantee it won't be the last.
Sometimes, when we ride the bus, Robb and I do not get to sit next to each other We just take whatever seat is vacant. Today, I sat next to a French girl from Strasbourg who is currently living in Paris. The conversation started when she, showing me her copy of Paris Pratique Par Arrondissement (lots of maps of the various areas of the city), pointed and asked if the bus was going to take her near her destination. Since I knew the area, I assured her she would be within a block of where she wanted to go. Then, of course, having broken the ice, we continued to chat until arriving at our stop, where we got off and said "au revoir", she going one way and we, the other.
At least, it didn't take as long in the bank as the first day.
Otherwise, it was pretty much a wasted day and it was cold. It was also wet, off and on.
On the return to the apartment, we stopped at a pizza place on Place de la République. We both had the Quatre Saison pizza; cheese, tomato sauce, peppers, and mushrooms. We each got a pizza the size of Montana. We ate as much as we could, which for me was about half, and for Robb, about two-thirds. Then - surprise, surprise - the waitress suggested we could take the rest home with us. What? Are we still in Paris? Have we been transported back to the US for bad behaviour? What's going on? But, sure enough, she put the leftovers into a pizza box and we were off.
I thought I was feeling better, but by the time we got back to the apartment, I was worn out. This is getting really old
Plus à venir, mes amis.