Tuesday Late

It's Tuesday evening and I am late from work. At this time the trains are less frequent so I waited half an hour on the station. By the time I reached the final stop on my "slow train", it was a bit late to go shopping, even in the outskirts of Paris. 

So I looked for a restaurant near by. There appeared to be only one, but a nice looking one. I went in. "A table for 1" I ordered. "Have you booked?" she asked. Well I hadn't, and this appeared to be a problem! The lady looked in a big book, and they squeezed me into a corner. The place was buzzing. 

view from the corner

So what was the food like?
I paid a little more and ordered a steak. The pepper sauce was great, but the meat was over-cooked. I wanted it pink but pink was very rare!

The profiteroles were spectaculaire, even provoking comments from the table next door. Not that you could see the profiteroles for the cream and strawburry halves. When I did get to them, they had only just defrosted. 

Still, the price was good. Perhaps that was why it was so busy. 

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Fluffy Whites

The local supermarket, Cora, are offering towels if you spend a fortune. I did, because I bought my docking station there. But when I went to get the towels I wanted (there were several options) all had been taken except one choice, so I had those.

My new possessions 

These are what I call "fluffy whites" which was very much June's preference, and idea of a little luxury, if we were ever staying away. The hotel or lodging would always have a good rating from June if it offered fluffy whites. Ibis always did.
And then one day we graduated to having our own - that was a long time ago now. But very quickly Terry was banned from using the fluffy whites because they stopped being white so quickly.
So now I have my own. And what colour they will be next week, or even tomorrow, I cannot tell. Somehow I don't think you will want me to provide an answer, and certainly not with photographic proof!
It is enough to just know that now I have my own "fluffy whites".

Desserte Dessert Desert Désert

As I walked along with Jean-Yves I asked him about the word "désert" that I thought I had seen pointing the way to the airport. He soon worked out that I was confused.
Ah no, he explained, the désert you saw was "desserte" and he emphasised the "ss". Apparently he can hear the difference. If I listened hard, and he emphasised a lot, I thought I could too.
He explained the different sorts of d(e/é)s(s)ert(e) you can have, and how it could also be taken to "de-sertir" - but I did not find that explanation in the dictionary. Here are some of the definitions I did find as well as Jean-Yves'.

Desserte
A table on which one puts a desservi or clearing away
Meat given to the deserving
An access point for passengers 

Desert
from de-sertir and by that extension, to remove from.

Désert
Nothing there

Dessert
The latter (sweet) part of a meal

So now I know that this sign does not describe a remote place near the airport that people would, inexplicably, want to go to. With the extra "s" and final "e", and in association with transport, it has a quite different meaning.
All very complex, explained Jean-Yves. I don't know why, he added. I do, I said. It is done deliberately to confuse foreigners!
I am sure I am right.

A Walk in the Park

Sunday. I have cleaned, eaten, and so I thought I would see what the park looked like in the daylight and without all the entertainments set up. It turned out to be quite busy.
A stroll round the small lake, which the night before had reflected the fireworks, did not take long. I ambled further, wondering how big the park was. Soon I came within earshot of thumpy music. As I rounded the corner, there was a fun fair!
Once again, it is worth exploring such things when in a new culture. This was daytime, before 6pm, and there were many families and small children. The fair appeared to be geared to them. Here are a few photos of the (to me) less usual rides.

Walking on Water - or - Falling on Water

Barbie Bumper-scooters

The "Enchanted River" Ride 

The Ghost Train was not running.
Presumably not dark enough to be scary!

A real horse merry-go-round. 

Or you could just chill out in the park.
It was quite humid so a lot were doing just that.

Did I go on anything? No, I just took the photos for you to see how your French cousins relax.

Feux d'Artifice des Femmes

Fireworks to you - in celebration of Women - How French!
In fact there is a "women" theme in several places so there must be a common cause. These fireworks, timed for 11pm, marked the end of the celebration weekend in Massy. After last evening, I debated going but when I woke from a doze in good time to walk over I took the plunge. French firework displays are usually worth the effort.
As I exited my lodgings, there were people walking along the road passed the gate. I reasoned there was only one place they were going and followed them to find the shortcut to the park I had perceived there must be last evening. They turned right through a gap in the hedge that turned out to be a path, then through a tower block pathway and bridge to arrive at the footbridge over the motorway. At this point we were joined by others from other directions and we became a crowd. The anticipation was sort of exciting!
There was a band still playing as I arrived but people were also leaving the stage area and getting into position in the next field. The band abruptly stopped and I joined those in the field near small people I could see over. Quite quickly the announcer welcomed us and announced the theme. Each set piece had a "women are like" announcement, appropriate music, and a mass of accompanying fireworks.
"A woman is not born, she must become one", "Soft and timid, but then also very brave", and so on. Not always completely complementary, "logic cannot stand before her", and "what man can understand". Or are those complements?
No photos but I could have tried as at one point the whole sky was lit up for over a minute with continuous firework explosions. Oh ok, an old picture as a reminder.

From Bastille Day

And then suddenly it was all over. The music and announcements fell silent, it became dark again, and the crowd turned for home. I found the path and after the 2 factions had weaved between each other as the 2 possible directions sorted themselves out, I was once again in a crowd heading for the motorway footbridge.
At the bridge, the crowd stopped. A true M25 experience with people on foot. The cause became apparent when I reached the crash barriers that stopped the flow, particularly for pushchairs; but once passed, the bridge was less congested that it would otherwise have been, and, I suppose, much safer for it. "More fireworks" I heard a little girl on her dad's shoulders say in American. Sure enough, in the distance, another celebration weekend was ending. "Too far to get to" said her dad, and I agree. Time for bed!

Gospel Rock

The first band I decided to miss. I was not sure the name inspired me. However, I found out why the "8 dead men" were so loud, they were in fact the "8 killers". Nearly right. These went on for over 20mins over their time, and then the stage needed to be stripped. So it was very nealy 11pm before the act I came to see could start.

The venu was closer than I thought. Just 9mins walk which could explain why I could hear the bands from my room!

Capturé par mon iPhone

As usual this was a family occasion and everyone was talking so no one seemed to mind the wait. Even the dogs were quiet. I had a "mergauze American sandwich" (surely a contradiction in terms?) which I washed down with a can of Heineken, mainly because this was what was on sale from the bucket of ice!

When the Gospel band began they were "Gospel Rock" and not "Gospel Jazz" as I told some people. They were still good. The lead singer appeared to be well known to the French, but not to me. But they did sing some Gospel songs, mostly in English, including "Joshua fought the battle of Jerico", "This is the day", and "No body knows (the trouble I've seen)". They also sang "Women do get weary (wearing the same ragged dress)", which song I had never actually heard except when June sang the first few bars, either to recall the time when a brother had sung it to her (when she did have only 1 smart but old dress); or when she was fed up with her latest favourite. A fun surprise for me.

So now I am home well after midnight having had a pleasant, if rather loud, evening! And only a short walk from home.

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Little while friends

Jon and Clare may recall this phrase. It was used in a children's book for those people we meet on holiday and become friendly with for just a short while.
Now some awake people will realise I am not on holiday, but the people I met were!
I chatted to some people speaking English in the Luxembourg park. They were Australian and were just ending their long holiday in France by being at Paris. We chatted and discovered we were both Christians. They had not known that Hillsongs church has a branch in Paris so I gave them the address.
After the park choir had finished, I suggested we eat at June and my favourite restaurant in the area and we did.
This photo is of them, sitting where Clare and June sat (insert) on a previous visit. At the end of the meal, the heavens opened and we went inside to finish the coffee. We stood at the bar and got in the way because there were no tables free.
Then when we went back outside they said "goodbye" which was curious because we had not paid. We pointed this out and they brought the bill with 3 apple liqueurs which prolonged out stay just a little.

Via email, I hope to keep in touch.
Click for more photos of the day. On the way home the heavens opened again with cloud lightning. Spectacular! And I managed to keep the camera dry, although not so much me as I was in shirtsleeves!

Busses

Thé 291 bus is fréquent, much more so than m'y "CVM" bus which I waited 40min for.

2 busses stopped with the 291 at the back. Several people got on, but à slight young lady at the stop proper could not see the 2nd bus. As the first bus pulled away, she stuck her hand out in thé normal way of à request. The bus driver, who had already stopped, looked at her, shrugged his shoulders, and drove on!

She was insensed! This is the stop, she told me. We discussed what had happened. She wanted a phone number and reviewed thé bus stop information for this non-existant data. Very soon she was talking animatedly to a man she appeared to know.

At last, and quite quickly, another 291 appeared. To my amusement she pitched up next to the driver and could be seen bending his ear. He smiled but also shrugged his shoulders and started off, the young lady still talking.

Just at that moment another lady ran for the bus. Wisely thé driver stopped and let her on!



Accents curtousy of this French iPhone and its insistance on correcting me.
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