travel bug

Somehow, Paris seems to have a detrimental effect on my health. Last year, when I was there for a weekend in February, I caught the mother of all colds at Charles-de-Gaulle airport when the airconditioning was on at full blast instead of the heating. This time, it must have been one of the endless queues for an exhibition or the Eiffel Tower where we waited outside in not exactly mild and spring-like temperatures that did me in or I must have caught some nasty virus or other. In any case, I started getting a decidedly uncomfortable feeling in my throat on the RER to the airport on Sunday and by the time we were seated on our plane at last (let me tell you, you are being punished for booking a cheap flight by flying from hard-to-reach Terminal 3, which is obviously the one reserved for stingy loosers...) I was convinced I'd swallowed a bulk pack of razor blades. Mercifully, I've already progressed to the runny-nose-phase today so it's obviously just your common cold which I successfully managed to avoid all winter. Ah, well. Must get fit for my girly weekend (with the Mermaid and her colleague, C.) in Rome.

Now. Paris. We had a great time in spite of the rather inclement weather and as it was TD's first visit, we did lots of touristy things, like taking the elevator (myself, I'd have preferred the stairs but decided to let the birthday boy have his way) up the Eiffel Tower. Surprisingly, I did not buy much, apart from some bits and pieces at Habitat, one of my favourite shops, lots of chocolate (see photo. By the way, I do realise the photo is rather small but I chickened out from posting a larger version as it is indeed me you can see in front of the pyramid) and souvenirs for the girls at the office. I could easily have bought all the handbags on the accessories floor of Galeries Lafayette - drool, drool - but then decided to be good for a change and wait for shoportunities in Rome. I have a feeling a pair (at least) of shoes will find its way into my suitcase this weekend.

We lived in my friend Frida's studio in the Marais, which was not only very snug and conveniently located for sight-seeing, but also within walking distance of their - very nice - flat proper. It was so lovely to see them all and I was touched when the boys (aged 3 and 5) were so obviously thrilled to see us they came running to give us a hug. It's not that often you have that effect on people, now is it? Our friends went out of their way to provide us with an "all-inclusive" package by making dinner for us twice and even baking a cake for TD's birthday on Sunday. While I get on well with all my friends' husbands, there are few of them I like in their own right and Frida's husband, let's call him the Prototype, because he's such a model supportive husband, is one of them. It was in fact him who baked the cake for TD, just to give you an idea of his prototypicality (does this word exist???).

Like London, Paris is one of those cities I could visit every year and never get bored. Well, in the case of London, I actually do visit every year. Mind you, I would not want to live there permanently, having realised the quality of living is infinitely better in Vienna. Paris, however, could be worth a little "foreign affair" although having been told how much Frida and the Prototype are paying for their flat I'd want to either get a French millionaire with it or find some seriously well-paid job there. Which is so not going to happen. Neither of it.