12th
Chapitre 1: Paris
Memo to Philip Morris: No more advertising needed here. You’ve succeeded. I knew people smoke a lot in Europe, but it is simply insane how many people burn gritts in Paris. I mean, most Parisiens must get a carton on their thirteenth birthday or something. And it’s like chainsmoking smoking — a race to see who can finish their pack first.
Thought > Perhaps that is why no one is fat here.
I can’t for the life of me understand how people don’t dig on this city. Simply breathtaking in every way. For such an expansive city, life moves pretty slow. People pause/stop, sit, talk, relax, eat, drink, and enjoy life. Patience is observed like religion. Did I mention no fucking car horns? Apologies for the language, I won’t make a habit of it.
Thought > They’ve figured out this whole “living” thing pretty well. It’s admirable.
The language barrier isn’t much of a deal in Paris. Once you know how to ask for menus, alcohol, and where the crapper is, you are pretty much all set. The US peso aint worth nada over here, so I’ve been steering clear of the Michelin haunts. You truly have to be an inept human being to find bad grub.
In other news, my college buddy Graham Bingham is along for the ride for the first 7 days. He’s a hell of a photographer — so here is some of the touristy crap from the first few days. Graham hasn’t cut his hair or sideburns and it’s freaking me out how much he looks like Wylie Dufresne.
Status Report:
Current Events - oblivious. I haven’t watched tv or read a newspaper since arriving. Send me an e-mail if there is something you think I shoud know.
Literature - just finished Bringing Down the House. Quick, enjoyable read. If you like to gamble, you may want to pass on this. By the end, you actually think you can beat Vegas. Next up: Kitchen Confidential.
Cell phone: undecided. I may look into one next week. No rush though. I am hooked up on Skype (and you should be too) — it rules.
We are switching hotels to the Plaza Athenee in the morning. Mad props to Kimmo for hooking this up. I’m coming back to the Hotel Mansart on Thursday for three more days before heading South. It’s a nice, comfortable crib on Rue de Capucines in the most western part of the 2nd Arrondissement, bordering the 8th.
Back at ya in a few days.
