tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55743504751239150392024-03-16T02:10:30.816+01:00A Canadian in ParisIn which a travelling Canadian finds himself immersed <br>in the language and culture of the city of lights
<br>...and the history
<br>...and the fashion
<br>...and the foodChevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-47285549878141647682018-12-16T21:52:00.000+01:002018-12-17T02:28:09.761+01:00December in ExileMy friends,<br />
<br />
The festive season is upon us and I want to wish you all a happy holiday season. Happy (belated) Hanukkah to my Jewish friends, Merry Christmas and happy New Year to almost everyone (except perhaps my Jehovah's Witness friends, to whom I wish... ummm... warm tidings for the wintery months), and a Joyous Yuletide for all of my friends (possibly none of you) who have previously cheered on my posts about Woden.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bfWP0qEV1I_d_cciELXl898Yq-jzv2Qe0V_O4-n14bwu-sjfT3G36v2_qlBJfwAHwkus0Hj0DODq7yRQcum_aNKi8IQgy-5U2AqYAf-ZpJq6dq6wGtT284QRoZ029h1YT7i2PP4HtNc/s1600/27697cb898c1a84421754076d0ade3bc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bfWP0qEV1I_d_cciELXl898Yq-jzv2Qe0V_O4-n14bwu-sjfT3G36v2_qlBJfwAHwkus0Hj0DODq7yRQcum_aNKi8IQgy-5U2AqYAf-ZpJq6dq6wGtT284QRoZ029h1YT7i2PP4HtNc/s320/27697cb898c1a84421754076d0ade3bc.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wild Hunt... a Yuletide Tradition</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
No More Facebook</h3>
Many of you have said that you've missed me and my updates on social media. I have missed you, but I have not missed the medium. Meanwhile, I've been trying to get on top of my life and my passions and into a place where I can be more comfortable and more content. I have not been 100% absent from Facebook, however. <br />
<br />
I've continued to maintain two pages: First a page for my company Data Sage...<span id="goog_484513224"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_484513225"></span><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/DataSageEN/" target="_blank">Data Sage Advanced Automation </a><br />
<br />
And a page for my former Paris apartment: which may become a fashion house one day...<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Le-Palais-de-Chevalier-Robyn-226838317383254/" target="_blank">Le Palais de Chevalier Robyn</a><br />
<br />
And of course, you can contact me (if you're my friend already), on messenger.<br />
<br />
Will I ever return to FB? I honestly thought my departure wouldn't extend more than a week. I'm not expecting to return, though I'll keep my messenger account active for the foreseeable future.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LQf9ZB3X3aD5yCbOpMXSyWdj5Tk9o6CvCEMuBzJzDr4s5WWoEnFWSPOYLAUBkcgyjrvtavxq69i6MHPLYvzVr7Ss0zlPFDTIXU74qfuXcmmABESTXzRVSruDo8L4KW2KyxViGgEsZpg/s1600/deactivated2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LQf9ZB3X3aD5yCbOpMXSyWdj5Tk9o6CvCEMuBzJzDr4s5WWoEnFWSPOYLAUBkcgyjrvtavxq69i6MHPLYvzVr7Ss0zlPFDTIXU74qfuXcmmABESTXzRVSruDo8L4KW2KyxViGgEsZpg/s320/deactivated2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So long, Zuckerberg!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
Paris Exile and Gabriola Island</h3>
Earlier this year, my larger clients either ran out of money or switched to other vendors or otherwise chose another direction in their software universe. Since my entire living in the past 25 years has come from creating custom software for clients, I'll leave it for you to imagine how much I bring in with zero active clients. Think of a number between 1 and -1.<br />
<br />
Only entrepreneurs go from major income to zero income. Yes, I had savings to shield the blow from this, but no I did not have enough savings to a) live in Paris indefinitely and b) face down an total cessation of my paid work.<br />
<br />
I retreated to Gabriola Island, where my family (my mom, an aunt, two uncles and five cousins) has been calling the place home for nearly 50 years. My mother has become the matriarch of our clan, having taken the mantle from her mother, who took the prize from her mother before her. The end result (for me) is that Gabriola is a place where I can convalesce and shore up my business contracts while spending very, very little money.<br />
<br />
A wrinkle in this convalescing plan is that my mom has been having health issues and my own situation is not the main focus of the family. It's probably fortunate that circumstance forced be back to Gabriola as I believe that I may have had a positive effect on my mom's health, which was in a scary decline in my absence.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMMvQXWj_C5eKytDIbOa2QRqogFGIFra8Yn7yl1tk3e9Swg_VMGRtu9Q0e-wWoZA3j6jIxniXSRzkdTissWT3WTyniQzd2v6wsltTittBli-4W_wZwh8LpGubpZdMeBPndPk3QYDj8fKg/s1600/DSC_6768-e1530768742930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMMvQXWj_C5eKytDIbOa2QRqogFGIFra8Yn7yl1tk3e9Swg_VMGRtu9Q0e-wWoZA3j6jIxniXSRzkdTissWT3WTyniQzd2v6wsltTittBli-4W_wZwh8LpGubpZdMeBPndPk3QYDj8fKg/s320/DSC_6768-e1530768742930.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Malespina Galleries on Gabriola Island</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
How much longer am I destined to stay? That will depend on what my next contract requirements will be, and whether my mom's health is truly stabilized. I expect to move on by the spring.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Serving Two Masters</h3>
I've been wanting to shift the way I make my living for a long time now. For the past very long time, I have been making custom software for clients. To do this, I write a contract where I sell my time. I would prefer to write contracts where I sell (or license) software. To accomplish this shift, I'll need some commercial software to sell... and to this end I've been writing some... and I've been taking my time to do it.<br />
<br />
What am I working on specifically? Glad you asked. I've been creating business productivity software that has a social-media style interface. I call it Oi! I had the idea some 5 years ago. It will, I'm certain be a very fun product. Using Oi!, working with co-workers and clients on a project would be a lot like goofing around with them on Facebook, except that work would actually get done.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I continue to look for work in the old fashioned way. I NEED work. If you need a system or know anyone who needs new business software or old business software in need of an upgrade, do let me know.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Couture</h3>
Most of you have watched me start with a simple dress to become somewhat of a dressmaker. I've since improved my skills as a dressmaker and finally... I might be becoming a tailor. Tailoring is the most involved set of skills in the sewing world. I've entered the tailoring world with my first man's jacket. Is it cool? Fuck yes. Is it perfect? God no. I have a lot to learn, really... a lot, but so far, I'm happy with the results.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemaHv1K9Lfp-2Axe4Qw4D8U9iPx9QqO4XtyD1zO-7yuewwibuTP8Ty1h_UXsuI1X5rPx5WfxjhCM1dDiU2G00cxzb96jGzq7l-9azJNSIvaoMFRv93JlwkZZHqAjXVMXfelhdtyBqGNo/s1600/d3341a4c-3934-469a-9e0f-84fdc3b5224f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemaHv1K9Lfp-2Axe4Qw4D8U9iPx9QqO4XtyD1zO-7yuewwibuTP8Ty1h_UXsuI1X5rPx5WfxjhCM1dDiU2G00cxzb96jGzq7l-9azJNSIvaoMFRv93JlwkZZHqAjXVMXfelhdtyBqGNo/s320/d3341a4c-3934-469a-9e0f-84fdc3b5224f.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This Chevalier is ready for action!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Will I become a tailor or couturier one day? It's not entirely likely, but I am certainly getting a lot better at sewing. Here's a dress I've been working on for Venice Carnival (?) or possibly the Bal Masque de Versailles..<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugP7KtyTtiEIkOMK_8Gu3UqdAe20CTcdZfwu7ygxF_h-6WcBCYCFVg3ksTu_HLfn3rqPe4dvgynwd4sTDqxjecXiOugI-ZdCriH38pfpOxoiBGy8XuFiVZ3i-KKu4dmmcuK0lhrabNSs/s1600/42111166_1781594728602618_9114771001341640704_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugP7KtyTtiEIkOMK_8Gu3UqdAe20CTcdZfwu7ygxF_h-6WcBCYCFVg3ksTu_HLfn3rqPe4dvgynwd4sTDqxjecXiOugI-ZdCriH38pfpOxoiBGy8XuFiVZ3i-KKu4dmmcuK0lhrabNSs/s320/42111166_1781594728602618_9114771001341640704_n.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Instant awesomeness: Just add princess.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbtyKR5Z1ILLOK1puNzhhkIN29KLa_4e8nbUhfV6Qa2K9VqoDD-tfWILzKsKZZLmQHvSUYsUzTQJ1h4rF-No0iq5IpT153iGuQVuI4if_FsMKy9-7jcaM6aXcdnPFotkUzTWD6OhKRGQ/s1600/d3341a4c-3934-469a-9e0f-84fdc3b5224f.jpg" imageanchor="1"></a>I've also been making a steady stream of modern dresses and recently a collection of 70's era jumpsuits and rompers. Do you need a dress, but can't buy it in a store? Maybe I can make one for you! It doesn't hurt to ask. Put in your request and if I can do it, I'll slip it into the queue.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Paris</h3>
I hope to return in the new year. My ability to return will depend a lot on contracts. I don't want to take a job there and ... honestly, it's hard enough finding a good paying job in Canada. I'll have the Dickens of a time in France with my terrible French and penchant for self-employment. So I'll only return if my contracts make it viable.<br />
<br />
That may mean a plan, yes an actual plan, to spend time in Victoria or Vancouver until I have a Paris war chest built up. Nonetheless, I will return to Paris eventually. I love the city. I love how I feel when I'm there. And there are some people there who I care for very deeply. More love. Paris feels like home to me. It may take some time, but that's where I'm ultimately expecting to be.<br />
<br />
So that's more than you need to read about me. Message me on FB messenger... or whatsApp or call me on the good ol' telephone... if you have a telephone app for your phone. I will drop *anything* to catch up.<br />
<br />
Your friend and adventurer,<br />
Chevalier Robyn<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-77378499074727988942016-04-13T02:17:00.000+02:002017-07-16T13:00:56.104+02:00A New HopeFriends,<br />
<br />
<b>A Canadian in Paris</b> may have fallen short of many of your blog needs and expectations these days and I'm here to give you a couple of reasons for that.<br />
<ol>
<li>I have been very busy.</li>
<li>I haven't been in Paris.</li>
<li>I haven't been in Paris (worth mentioning twice).</li>
</ol>
Let me tell you something about the finances of living abroad. Many of you perhaps assumed that I had unlimited wealth or perhaps did under-the-table jobs in Paris. This wasn't the case. I'm a computer consultant with my own company and I have been doing freelance work. When I moved to Paris, I was contracting for a company in North America. <br />
<br />
My relationship with that company was a great one. We took particular advantage of the time zone difference with my being in Paris. At the end of the day, the company and/or their clients would discuss what they needed done and would inform me in an email. The next day, I'd complete most of the work long before they were awake and... as they say in France, Voila! <br />
<br />
They could review my work the rest of their business day and prepare me a new list for the following morning. My clients and I would have a couple of hours where we could chat/skype/hangout before I would knock off for the evening and embark on the outrageous adventures I've been blogging about these past years.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>Why did it end?</b></h3>
A storm of events plagued my principal contracting company. They had a failed product launch (engineering project, not software and not mine), a resulting lawsuit, a death (major partner) and myriad other streaks of ill fate. The company seemed cursed and eventually closed up shop. <br />
<br />
I was left without a client. I was in a country where I was not legally allowed to look for work and as such, had done no prospecting. All of my contacts were on the other side of the world.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>What did I do?</b></h3>
As many of you know, I looked at this work stoppage as an opportunity. I started to work full time on my opus, my <b>Oi! - Operational Intelligence</b> application. To support myself, I took some small contract work in Canada, at least what I could find, and resumed work on Oi! during the breaks.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhac2VNmDlwsh26x6G9KIjlDdTqzfUidPA3hyBBnV3KEkqM2DysKc-EaZJWJH1BmPXlJREn9ssCeaL3JG3f9sC16ag-WDSTQ_NuaQUjB2LSDdcsmUYZwEivC5s-WeLg4W27FnYHzQCvHkw/s1600/screenshot+march+17.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhac2VNmDlwsh26x6G9KIjlDdTqzfUidPA3hyBBnV3KEkqM2DysKc-EaZJWJH1BmPXlJREn9ssCeaL3JG3f9sC16ag-WDSTQ_NuaQUjB2LSDdcsmUYZwEivC5s-WeLg4W27FnYHzQCvHkw/s400/screenshot+march+17.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A sample Oi! screenshot</div>
<br />
<br />
I never did find another company that would enable me to work remotely, however, thus my former Parisian lifestyle has eluded my recapture. I have been offered various contracting positions, but all requiring my presence at their offices. Such a position would obviously preclude returning to Paris and might likely all but prevent me from finishing my near finished opus application.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>Can the awesomeness be restored?</b></h3>
Yes. I just need a couple of new clients.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>Versailles this summer?</b></h3>
We'll see, my friends. I won't keep it a secret. We'll see.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRsnuzdSy58MtSqT2XETMglDIj3hLsg9h-U8SIPz9uTY8B2Eh8vH8iT9JB4BfAH0iId_D0oFz-0b-5IEAdzfsK7HaA-YYvzbiEm4ofHB45S6gEXRZFeDSoln2mw7zCM50SGf-saOQzQc/s1600/11231810_10205928348679254_5713695488093216182_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRsnuzdSy58MtSqT2XETMglDIj3hLsg9h-U8SIPz9uTY8B2Eh8vH8iT9JB4BfAH0iId_D0oFz-0b-5IEAdzfsK7HaA-YYvzbiEm4ofHB45S6gEXRZFeDSoln2mw7zCM50SGf-saOQzQc/s400/11231810_10205928348679254_5713695488093216182_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A dashing Chevalier and his Princesses at Versailles, June 2015</div>
<br />
Your friend and humble narrator,<br />
<b>Chevalier Robyn</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-70644049145616151592012-08-12T01:36:00.002+02:002012-08-12T01:36:48.825+02:00Random Observations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FQIS-9AUv3EHbqORnmyKI7sxz8aSCo-kF6HwSeVBKmLxUUdQgr8M57T-m5oFhOcJywBrY2KQN3c-yDcix8Jz7OsP22TRDjx-c1k44L_T11oBgQhrnyFcS1rqhCKInlG72lq5cAiiaGg/s1600/IMG_20120721_130007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FQIS-9AUv3EHbqORnmyKI7sxz8aSCo-kF6HwSeVBKmLxUUdQgr8M57T-m5oFhOcJywBrY2KQN3c-yDcix8Jz7OsP22TRDjx-c1k44L_T11oBgQhrnyFcS1rqhCKInlG72lq5cAiiaGg/s400/IMG_20120721_130007.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Guggenheim in NYC, because Americans<br />
need to see French art too. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Welcome back my excellent friends!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My blog posts have been few and far between now into my second year in Paris. I'm sorry about this for those of you who've been loyally following along. Unfortunately, the demands of a Parisian lifestyle mean lots and lots of work and that's what I've been doing this year. While I've managed to have a little fun, I can't even imagine what fun I could get into if I didn't have to work so much. For this last half of the year, I've promised myself to keep the resolutions that I made for the first half of the year... and keep them I will. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here's a few of my observations from the past month or so:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Immigration</b></div>
<div>
I picked up my
carte de sejour a few weeks back. There was no pomp or ceremony. I brought about 106 Euros worth of those government stamps you get at the tobacconist and they gave me the card. No appointment was needed, no questions, barely no speaking at all. I worried about this, but it's all over. Thank the gods. For the second and all subsequent years, the carte de sejour is an actual card that can be used as picture ID. Unfortunately I will still have to renew it every year, but now that I've done it once, I think it will not be so stressful doing it again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RsMzNSmtnxA/UBfkrBcQgSI/AAAAAAAACoQ/iDSA4ai8TIY/s1600/IMG_20120730_143517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RsMzNSmtnxA/UBfkrBcQgSI/AAAAAAAACoQ/iDSA4ai8TIY/s400/IMG_20120730_143517.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new carte de sejour! Whooowoo! I look so serious in the pic!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Language</b></div>
<div>
With a year into my stay, my French is still wanting. Of course I have enough French to manage a food and beverage order. Even some of the tricky mid-order questions that would put me into a panic have now become old had. How do I like my steak? Very much, thank you! There seems to be a ceiling however. I've made French friends, but I can see that they don't want to practice their English every moment they are with me and it grows wearisome for them... despite the fact that I'm awesome to hang around with. Now that work has lightened up just a bit, I'll be taking more time with it. So, it's back to the books for me.<br />
<br />
<b>Vampires</b></div>
<div>
I haven't mentioned vampires in months. Partly because there was this huge vampire convention in Prague and the horrible bloodsuckers (along with all the freaky ass vampire hunters) have been there the past few months. What became obvious to me since my return is that they spend a lot of time in the metro. It occurred to me only recently that the metro is the perfect way to avoid the sun during the day. Every now and then one of the stupider ones will get fried on the #1 line when it hits the Bastille station.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Sport</b></div>
<div>
Fencing has done wonders for my level of physical fitness and while we are on hiatus for the summer, I have grown fat again. Nothing serious but a couple of kilos have crept back. I've noticed this in other fencers too. I think that we tend to eat (and drink) like athletes whether we are fencing or not. It looks like I'll get a few private lessons in before the fall, but the serious training won't begin again 'til September.<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, France did poorly at the Olympics in fencing for the first time in a long time. There is renewed interest in the sport thanks to the Olympics and I'll have dozens of noobs to kill in the new year. I also plan to renew my pledge to go to Italy and kill Italians at their clubs in Rome (and possibly a few other cities). I will kill them in the name of France!</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/buTKmY45_X4/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/buTKmY45_X4?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/buTKmY45_X4?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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<div>
<b>Transportation</b></div>
<div>
Renault and the other car companies with showrooms on Champs Elysee will often feature their concept cars. I honestly don't know why a company spends money to get people salivating over a car that they can never own. While I already have a cool car that I don't even want to ship to Paris, I'd really would could imagine owning these cool cars... and keeping them at my imaginary castle just outside of Paris. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSgbeNUEI5IChu4ZcUit2-H8PM_7FXJyN1qgWvnt2R4clYqVB8urs3i9FompUGZPIyY0MPyfGETtMGBnkra0pmpmj2nV44Z9oCkYjce4v4zZDNVjwC3HjgQlCzu_L2XqkRxBR66EkOg0/s1600/IMG_20120804_234121.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSgbeNUEI5IChu4ZcUit2-H8PM_7FXJyN1qgWvnt2R4clYqVB8urs3i9FompUGZPIyY0MPyfGETtMGBnkra0pmpmj2nV44Z9oCkYjce4v4zZDNVjwC3HjgQlCzu_L2XqkRxBR66EkOg0/s320/IMG_20120804_234121.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Renault's electric Dezir at the Renault Atelier on Champs Elysee.<br />
http://www.renault.co.uk/about/innovations/dezir.aspx </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9lFPndyYhdcN78tmSnAHjRkZjDt1DmspqtRxTVzB7vgQ0h8TBNcOLJqedSDLT38bfjgGvzgf86QDw2HmbV5Vhp84Hh48HMA205a1-fioF4xg5Ni0nep5ozAMD7YwtF3Hj5kocphReqs/s1600/IMG_20120810_143322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9lFPndyYhdcN78tmSnAHjRkZjDt1DmspqtRxTVzB7vgQ0h8TBNcOLJqedSDLT38bfjgGvzgf86QDw2HmbV5Vhp84Hh48HMA205a1-fioF4xg5Ni0nep5ozAMD7YwtF3Hj5kocphReqs/s400/IMG_20120810_143322.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peugeot's lighting fast (looking) hybrid, which didn't look like it would<br />
move an inch off of it's podium. It's more of a sculpture than a car.</td></tr>
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Travel</div>
<div>
I did make an obligatory trip back to Canada to shore up some of my contracts with clients and on the way back I managed a few days in New York. Having some of the best friends in the world, my stay in NYC was fantastic... but... there is something about Paris that has me addicted. I'd sooner go for days without the Internet than without Paris. I had a sense of dread the moment I boarded the plane and I even considered fighting with security to get kicked off the flight before I boarded. Nothing bad happened, but seriously. I hate leaving Paris. I hate it! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeIobBwNyEcgyQXAKIB9-6CsHEun0to9N5xO4oN4A5YhRER-ME2WPuQrO_Ywwy09E__oqgK2N21GzX_qC3YGprUoumAW7qP3al-6X_NewS80KUPnl7C4r07fLYXc_-ihfkTjyMtl2XCE/s1600/IMG_20120720_195536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeIobBwNyEcgyQXAKIB9-6CsHEun0to9N5xO4oN4A5YhRER-ME2WPuQrO_Ywwy09E__oqgK2N21GzX_qC3YGprUoumAW7qP3al-6X_NewS80KUPnl7C4r07fLYXc_-ihfkTjyMtl2XCE/s400/IMG_20120720_195536.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of those kind of things you just see laying about in NYC.</td></tr>
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<b>Culture</b><br />
While I hope to do a whole blog post about this. I before leaving for NYC, I attended a flash mob group called the White Dinner. 11,000 of my closest friends joined me at the Place des Vosges for a nice dinner. Everyone brought tables, chairs, wine, champagne, candles, etc. All were dressed in white and all the tables, tablecloths and dishes were white too. I even brought Ruinart Blanc des Blancs (white of whites) champagne to keep with the theme. Here's a video I made that gives a good idea of the scope of the event.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/9e8pnFV0kMc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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That's all for this time, my friends. May the heavens raid odours upon you in the mean time.<br />
<br />
Your best friend in the world,<br />
Sir Robyn<br />
<br />
P.S. Don't forget to like... or share... or comment... or all three!</div>
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Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-67245678988738758242012-07-16T06:30:00.003+02:002012-07-16T06:37:13.363+02:00Big Balls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Greetings my friends!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTMfGMaweA6YtYj3qxi4i-scUHA4iOFqkwgtM_XSkb5mscUGRi_e0JELJNXl9ehJx52YKMIKl0R8cBH3rDZRSIglEA_IdXRVMzaADO67_t6eIgaTrm9SUdWEpSJQOTja9KGJ7kStjO2Y/s1600/IMG_20120629_210815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTMfGMaweA6YtYj3qxi4i-scUHA4iOFqkwgtM_XSkb5mscUGRi_e0JELJNXl9ehJx52YKMIKl0R8cBH3rDZRSIglEA_IdXRVMzaADO67_t6eIgaTrm9SUdWEpSJQOTja9KGJ7kStjO2Y/s640/IMG_20120629_210815.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Chevalier Robyn in full costume. This costume was created specifically for the <br />ball by my friend and tailor Aurelie LeBlanc <br />(dartoisleblanc@voila.fr if you wish to hire her for your own costume). </td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Welcome back to a rare edition of my Paris blog. Fate and circumstance have kept me, your humble blogger and observer of Paris, away from the keyboard for far too long. I have a great post in store for you however and as you can guess from the main picture, I've been back to the Chateau de Versailles for another of their famous masked balls. (</span><a href="http://www.chateauversailles.fr/homepage" style="background-color: white;">http://www.chateauversailles.fr/homepage</a><span style="background-color: white;">)</span></div>
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As I reported last year, I had thought that this particular ball was a one-time-only event, but it seems that they have done it a second time. Will it be annual? I hope so and I will start preparing now! I learned of this ball a couple of months in advance and there was a lot of planning to do for me, since I wanted every aspect of the ball to be as special and memorable as possible.</div>
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My observations and preparations went something like this:</div>
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1. My Costume. With two months to prepare, I first thought to make myself look as aristocratic as possible for the ball. Versailles is a very special location and I would not want to be under-dressed for an event there. There are three basic choices for this kind of an event; 1) to rent an expensive and very good looking costume, 2) to buy a cheap and awful looking costume or 3) to have an awesome looking costume made for you. This year I chose 3... the best decision of my life.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQXA0ge2dDI2_6WWlxUqAS-Fi2hP3WLG6E7kyI8uRIa9RH4uoACIk_WFjNgeUbspC4aPMTKKoVXkfyyqjD6T34exaCzv84f0Da74zEQ5oyVHJZG_M5rMoFfEXoncc6zUloP0wZCdOQUyQ/s1600/IMG_20120602_143939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQXA0ge2dDI2_6WWlxUqAS-Fi2hP3WLG6E7kyI8uRIa9RH4uoACIk_WFjNgeUbspC4aPMTKKoVXkfyyqjD6T34exaCzv84f0Da74zEQ5oyVHJZG_M5rMoFfEXoncc6zUloP0wZCdOQUyQ/s400/IMG_20120602_143939.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aurelie LeBlanc measures my majestic arms for the sleeves<br />
for this currently sleeveless jacket. In later phases, the<br />
jacket receives sleeves, embroidery, buttons and a lot of<br />
other necessary details.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
2, Princesses. Conventional ball wisdom dictates that one must have an intelligent and attractive date for a ball. Ideally, she will possess the air of an aristocrat, the humility of a saint, the beauty of a goddess and the charm of an enchantress. The fates have smiled upon me more times than I can describe and I invited not one, but seven such princesses to escort me to the ball.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rsoRfwwVutSYbBLUrxwN78tCy_kzkAkKdsnsMA8dcaMfhCEM0Jf2BdRlJaHfvFiYqI-XxzrxOQYNKLjFXqV7XapGLoZL5yOJOA6bsg84i40GM6pViW3-_g39fZZctF2rQYEEB39MLzM/s1600/IMG_20120614_152526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rsoRfwwVutSYbBLUrxwN78tCy_kzkAkKdsnsMA8dcaMfhCEM0Jf2BdRlJaHfvFiYqI-XxzrxOQYNKLjFXqV7XapGLoZL5yOJOA6bsg84i40GM6pViW3-_g39fZZctF2rQYEEB39MLzM/s400/IMG_20120614_152526.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first of my princesses, a Parisian resident by way of<br />
North Africa tries on a few dresses at Académie du Bal <br />
Costumé at 22 Avenue Ledru Rollins. I have been to<br />
this shop many times for many costumes since moving<br />
to Paris.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
3. Princess Management. There are no books about princess management, so I may be the world's only authority. Every princess must have certain things in place to go to a masked ball; a ticket of course, an 18th century dress, shoes that can be worn for 8-10 consecutive hours, the proper lingerie (to feel the part), hosiery, a wig or hairstyle reminiscent of the 18th century, and of course a mask. If all princesses were completely independent, this would be very easy to manage, but princesses are prone to being in distress for one or more of their requirements.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0OraIwx5qir6fGPm-Jxa3tJnfEIXYEJPrvfRnYmhqmHhaIdXbcy3XhHKR7HrcxzDulIkQP4aF8Ykh9yMIPFFZUdYAM-qOoc-_Wc0EMsJr9zW-hqIn8_dxtUqEnR9dP8PCueuCBOb4jE/s1600/IMG_20120621_164329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0OraIwx5qir6fGPm-Jxa3tJnfEIXYEJPrvfRnYmhqmHhaIdXbcy3XhHKR7HrcxzDulIkQP4aF8Ykh9yMIPFFZUdYAM-qOoc-_Wc0EMsJr9zW-hqIn8_dxtUqEnR9dP8PCueuCBOb4jE/s400/IMG_20120621_164329.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My second princess to dress is also a Parisin resident, but<br />
of Caribbean origin. This was one of many dresses she<br />
tried on for the ball.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DuiCaMdy8iMuoyRby5jQ_aLr9JkwIz1k8JxVMynNPBWTD5akkht3FyHBVFff4D-hiTNatHKxnAUKZBq9gX6dUcNYP5jQuy3D9VdP-eJNYgGaF3Po3cq35warLE5YNycPnnTN1XOBuuY/s1600/IMG_20120626_175839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DuiCaMdy8iMuoyRby5jQ_aLr9JkwIz1k8JxVMynNPBWTD5akkht3FyHBVFff4D-hiTNatHKxnAUKZBq9gX6dUcNYP5jQuy3D9VdP-eJNYgGaF3Po3cq35warLE5YNycPnnTN1XOBuuY/s400/IMG_20120626_175839.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This beautiful blonde-haired princess came all the way<br />
from Hawaii to take in the ball. Having arrived in<br />
Paris a little late we found my favourite costume shop<br />
picked clean. Thankfully, La Vestiere (at 107 Avenue<br />
Daumesnil)
<a href="http://www.lesitelevestiaire.com/">http://www.lesitelevestiaire.com/</a> was<br />
well stocked and saved the day for us.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
4. Going Overboard. Perhaps there are times when I want too much of a good thing. Women's dresses can be custom made as well and over many glasses of champagne, I designed a dress for my Russian princess. I was determined to see this dress on her and located an American dressmaker (quite by accident) who took the commission. The elaborate dress arrived only 2 days before the ball, causing your humble blogger and Parisian correspondent a near heart-attack. I do not like to let my princesses down.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85meiUHPmGBSVPO_eigmj6KnnCZUNh1myUrZFn4oyXsf1flDh-Jyl8KfoLpYqB54fzITfMHu3P33cly9jc0cOfNEOTTtOLrYQHKm6p6ABsI6ZUtLEr6mcqI9I0cFXALDA4V3Mgkwxjsc/s1600/IMG_20120629_205036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85meiUHPmGBSVPO_eigmj6KnnCZUNh1myUrZFn4oyXsf1flDh-Jyl8KfoLpYqB54fzITfMHu3P33cly9jc0cOfNEOTTtOLrYQHKm6p6ABsI6ZUtLEr6mcqI9I0cFXALDA4V3Mgkwxjsc/s400/IMG_20120629_205036.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 4th princess to be dressed, a Parisian of Russian origin,<br />
poses in her beautiful and complex multi-part garment consisting <br />
of a large skirt, over-skirt, bodice, jacket, train and matching hat. I<br />
found the
magical seamstress at etsy.com on her online shop here:<br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/RomanticThreads?ref=shop_sugg">http://www.etsy.com/shop/RomanticThreads?ref=shop_sugg</a> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="background-color: white;">5. Dressing. Dressing seven princesses for a ball is both exciting and challenging. I decided to hold a "dressing party" about 3 hours before the ball and provided a delicious rose champagne and hors d'ouvres for the princesses to get them in the mood for a long night of partying.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnrJVhqllCTLwk9MNZYksxJu5GbmiYKsNVRkumCDMhij6Q4EuP1Oz-nJAa_XXahzMU2WVlg5f_qzBD1yOlCLCDwCs8NaVoY7Ko1QPIr2dBhGcThN_70DkMiWwBMnn3CC2E6M2mDt5vHY/s1600/IMG_20120630_203617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnrJVhqllCTLwk9MNZYksxJu5GbmiYKsNVRkumCDMhij6Q4EuP1Oz-nJAa_XXahzMU2WVlg5f_qzBD1yOlCLCDwCs8NaVoY7Ko1QPIr2dBhGcThN_70DkMiWwBMnn3CC2E6M2mDt5vHY/s400/IMG_20120630_203617.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have many photos, perhaps some not suitable for public<br />
viewing, but this captures some of the wonder and <br />
excitement of it all. By this time, we are all dressed and<br />
preparing to evacuate my apartment for the limousine<br />
ride to Versailles!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
6. Transportation. To keep in the spirit of the 18th century, naturally one would think that a horse drawn carriage might be the perfect solution for transportation. Alas, it was quite impossible for our circumstances. First, the average carriage has room for a Chevalier (me) and only three princesses. With a compliment of seven princesses, I would have needed two carriages. Second, Versailles was designed to be out-of-the-way and a carriage ride from Paris to Versailles is well over three hours. This is far too long for too many reasons to explain. We chose rather, to travel by motor-coach, or rather, by limousine.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4T4myUDW_mpkBH4AksPEoJquz7Vn9sku7n26Lb-dzuZXCel3ssZjZnjSnxduxgAmi3sJZX3gTpQdX5DSRYvUIcZ_RohLctrIQtWHKbkV5rITP8nlbFSqoM0MInUgH_maf6MP7Uuqgqc/s1600/CIMG2301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4T4myUDW_mpkBH4AksPEoJquz7Vn9sku7n26Lb-dzuZXCel3ssZjZnjSnxduxgAmi3sJZX3gTpQdX5DSRYvUIcZ_RohLctrIQtWHKbkV5rITP8nlbFSqoM0MInUgH_maf6MP7Uuqgqc/s640/CIMG2301.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dates. Your humble narrator takes a photo of his seven dates for the ball, each from a different country and<br />
background and each as beautiful as the next. I am truly the luckiest Chevalier in the world.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAypBsni-ZTfWSL42bWWragBqoPmJ4jhUOykQFUWHz7n7a7KokY7-0lc0P69fuaCYrDmGSTu85cZDIoJIi9iBlU0vAqlVL4-HDE1NZ3Mqok_04BWuNWx-Y-_2OFWlj7s1Hy1AM4dX2ic/s1600/P1080530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAypBsni-ZTfWSL42bWWragBqoPmJ4jhUOykQFUWHz7n7a7KokY7-0lc0P69fuaCYrDmGSTu85cZDIoJIi9iBlU0vAqlVL4-HDE1NZ3Mqok_04BWuNWx-Y-_2OFWlj7s1Hy1AM4dX2ic/s640/P1080530.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most common anachronism of the evening? The cell-phone camera of course. Mine was at the ready all night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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7. The Chateau. Versailles is perhaps the most magnificent castle ever built for a reigning monarch. Daily tours are offered to the public that take you through the famous Hall of Mirrors and the various rooms named after Roman deities. The masked ball was held in the Orangerie, a gigantic hall surrounding an orange tree garden (in which the orange trees are planted in boxes).</div>
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For us, the party began at the large pool directly in front of the castle. After posing for a few shots there, we walked down to the gardens for a light show, followed by fireworks and music with the Grand Canal as a backdrop. Everything was spectacular.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXaA2xP0TmIwlBH5XfykD8tRPXcXhMk8kif0GQ4EyXlMN9DamspQwvvldR0qGS7G2OnH3VY3_xx9q30BmRLxAdkXPh8nL9Ar2phovcqNTDTtcsumwPEfUf68qxRXPP9U6TYJDkLcixRc/s1600/IMG_20120630_221358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXaA2xP0TmIwlBH5XfykD8tRPXcXhMk8kif0GQ4EyXlMN9DamspQwvvldR0qGS7G2OnH3VY3_xx9q30BmRLxAdkXPh8nL9Ar2phovcqNTDTtcsumwPEfUf68qxRXPP9U6TYJDkLcixRc/s400/IMG_20120630_221358.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My two most contrasting princesses pose near the main<br />
pool in front of the Chateau de Versailles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLBq-EMajFH9tQfNvNArM1GhLUrb4GsLVW7kgBpGktySfxEIFz8rgGZE6OUR-fYdkSHzU54v0kU5R91o618eWmQ_63jqMsN3VCbed8J1RNn0ebt96QcDzVkjB1mzsYzf1pD6XumDfYMs/s1600/CIMG2328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLBq-EMajFH9tQfNvNArM1GhLUrb4GsLVW7kgBpGktySfxEIFz8rgGZE6OUR-fYdkSHzU54v0kU5R91o618eWmQ_63jqMsN3VCbed8J1RNn0ebt96QcDzVkjB1mzsYzf1pD6XumDfYMs/s400/CIMG2328.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I steal a glance from my Princess in White as the skies<br />
light up with fireworks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
8. The Costumes. I've been to many costume parties and the costumes generally range in quality a great deal. This was not the case at Versailles. It seemed that every last participant went to some great length to acquire a costume of the appropriate period. The general "look" was French of the late 17th to late 18th century. There were few exceptions and the few that existed were elaborate costumes themselves.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIpyAV0J9CBedeTjYDIK1nsNY5iOXvuVAb6jjo5XUZ3vt2CrlajnBg4V7nx4kWhN9EMJGF8qNGFU6q3vdrSJRzuPEReyAiQc9KpgX4IPftOYPyAD6APc6GrDIN5QaJ6_k5wb1mJr5lZw/s1600/IMG_20120630_234424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIpyAV0J9CBedeTjYDIK1nsNY5iOXvuVAb6jjo5XUZ3vt2CrlajnBg4V7nx4kWhN9EMJGF8qNGFU6q3vdrSJRzuPEReyAiQc9KpgX4IPftOYPyAD6APc6GrDIN5QaJ6_k5wb1mJr5lZw/s400/IMG_20120630_234424.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Princess in White climbs the stairs to observe the hundreds of costumes<br />
on display in front of the Chateau.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zEpflGCgWgAP5L8MJYkzZMNxs4-3Y9GNtK2-ttfajlnthSPVDv1X9kRqtkz3AW2fug2gkaw9uxgi5skaRGyTZZbgW1pDpcLgxYy5AouDLqEYfHsHbY0c9yy1a8J00gj04rVRuL5i5w4/s1600/IMG_1420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zEpflGCgWgAP5L8MJYkzZMNxs4-3Y9GNtK2-ttfajlnthSPVDv1X9kRqtkz3AW2fug2gkaw9uxgi5skaRGyTZZbgW1pDpcLgxYy5AouDLqEYfHsHbY0c9yy1a8J00gj04rVRuL5i5w4/s400/IMG_1420.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A party-goer gets a mask adjustment from one of her many attendants.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
9. The Setting. Looking toward the Chateau, the Orangerie is to the right and down. The paths were circled by tubs full of candles. The exterior walls were bathed in coloured lights. Party goers were herded down a long flight of stairs to the garden entrance into a foyer, where they were set loose on the party within.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVP8do7qMG-0uOPs6KEPlzVDYWYeSiqQ4gIVwCzUF3KnK2L_OSIy6JQZpV03cPmPtk6cVqTq-BkDxdQxMvXUN_Vz5NCUw92hnpJKV2Dz1REBKaLf-PkY1cOPkCxjDbmc6oHwebn1Z9Xc/s1600/IMG_1425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVP8do7qMG-0uOPs6KEPlzVDYWYeSiqQ4gIVwCzUF3KnK2L_OSIy6JQZpV03cPmPtk6cVqTq-BkDxdQxMvXUN_Vz5NCUw92hnpJKV2Dz1REBKaLf-PkY1cOPkCxjDbmc6oHwebn1Z9Xc/s400/IMG_1425.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A top view of the Orangerie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQeWpR43qt8gy_kYf00o5nNeP4mqOb_Q0b6v53Ug2CDjNIlxAwPb32BYl1FSuc3YsCckAyIzT8rpg9uxnBnI02LI_EO80EMmHSLoudM1ki-3cSp8c-5-BwEUErdXv1NOyzZzz_B02aW4/s1600/IMG_1431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQeWpR43qt8gy_kYf00o5nNeP4mqOb_Q0b6v53Ug2CDjNIlxAwPb32BYl1FSuc3YsCckAyIzT8rpg9uxnBnI02LI_EO80EMmHSLoudM1ki-3cSp8c-5-BwEUErdXv1NOyzZzz_B02aW4/s400/IMG_1431.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Party-goers navigate the long flight of stairs while stopping to take<br />
pictures of others.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
10. The Party. Upon entering the Orangerie with its impossibly high ceilings and seemingly unlimited space, we noted that the walls were painted with light from projectors which shone on go-go dancers in pseudo-18th century dress. The music was mostly techno (perhaps a bit too techno for some) with hints of music from a number of other genres mixed in.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_oOk9dhIjD2GU9LqYy0czT37vL-Un02witj7cNoueRr8-F9zDoMsgVkB3oP0kcn-ac-4HFVKX4EtfuBQWB78cAiKwuvExRSA-1ZN28IGnjflRadHBcvJ8FlPs86XO2QfnxQeg0VVT0VI/s1600/CIMG2363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_oOk9dhIjD2GU9LqYy0czT37vL-Un02witj7cNoueRr8-F9zDoMsgVkB3oP0kcn-ac-4HFVKX4EtfuBQWB78cAiKwuvExRSA-1ZN28IGnjflRadHBcvJ8FlPs86XO2QfnxQeg0VVT0VI/s400/CIMG2363.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A male go-go dancer rocks out on a pedestal.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZqA0XdquIyctBpK_lsE_oBxHCARwJK8-7yVJ7ThJe2P8ad9tHEav-4e1g18ZcnDBO5jDdEqRT8PWdtoPkXP9ZObHW_Wyv9iRYD-d1TwPHTKuAegSgwbK8y7pduqXo8KOl1UlJqFAxqo/s1600/IMG_20120701_030216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZqA0XdquIyctBpK_lsE_oBxHCARwJK8-7yVJ7ThJe2P8ad9tHEav-4e1g18ZcnDBO5jDdEqRT8PWdtoPkXP9ZObHW_Wyv9iRYD-d1TwPHTKuAegSgwbK8y7pduqXo8KOl1UlJqFAxqo/s400/IMG_20120701_030216.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This dancer pictured here is nearly nude, having recently<br />
performed a burlesque act on the main stage. Her act was<br />
none the less exotic, while bathed in the reddish<br />
projections from behind her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
11. The VIP Treatment. Of course, with a collection of princesses for which I was responsible, we kept mainly to the VIP section of the party. There are parties where a VIP section really doesn't mean much, but here, the Very Important Princesses were treated to a food bar managed by three chefs. Deserts, crepes, and chocolate fondue was on the menu for the entire evening... a nice offset to the champagne.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShIWU-Ix88AL1bqQcmydBAEGPH0qpWpcNv21NB5n4GAhRKSWKg3nwpxHMn3nzVLwCZvK22L5CGIoaW8VQ4xm2MopvRV316POgWWOH9PtPUjmEqNZljhtLlXOJ1BEwFoYPQYuBTZj4WbA/s1600/CIMG2380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShIWU-Ix88AL1bqQcmydBAEGPH0qpWpcNv21NB5n4GAhRKSWKg3nwpxHMn3nzVLwCZvK22L5CGIoaW8VQ4xm2MopvRV316POgWWOH9PtPUjmEqNZljhtLlXOJ1BEwFoYPQYuBTZj4WbA/s400/CIMG2380.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A chef displays his fondue creation, which was quickly devoured by<br />
hungry princesses.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_s6uos_sqvXSOznofLbPkMhK9E5qBsr-16xc375r9G5qfayMZe2g0TAkOL7uIv62P6hEqVMKP9xJQz9xTyqE3yJnR4lvqSuLHpArFdVeKq-llMOLpw1U5kBQ06YZXxcqH8WbxrgRk4cU/s1600/IMG_20120701_015626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_s6uos_sqvXSOznofLbPkMhK9E5qBsr-16xc375r9G5qfayMZe2g0TAkOL7uIv62P6hEqVMKP9xJQz9xTyqE3yJnR4lvqSuLHpArFdVeKq-llMOLpw1U5kBQ06YZXxcqH8WbxrgRk4cU/s400/IMG_20120701_015626.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Princesses taking a break from dancing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifzDprU3V7BHkp0gbw6lrTskrCl8emPhtgqsM7wGF9CsgpA5iengyiFk6vRmK_Rjilpo_w16Q9fnsfGY6tfu3HRWRpQDWPz3D7OI_B5O38Za7vDbBjDBn8Kkk-4M4pC50K7wjfhiuil2o/s1600/IMG_1449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifzDprU3V7BHkp0gbw6lrTskrCl8emPhtgqsM7wGF9CsgpA5iengyiFk6vRmK_Rjilpo_w16Q9fnsfGY6tfu3HRWRpQDWPz3D7OI_B5O38Za7vDbBjDBn8Kkk-4M4pC50K7wjfhiuil2o/s400/IMG_1449.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A princess and her admirer conspire in the red light of the VIP section.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8dB5DDRsiffDTklJVSroCHG0XojKwKIhkLGnEqHMJ9SW28y84Fx9mvRXkKGXUpkiodH_o3AQK756OSdQMAC_fbFZFr7QnkaTt7V1ortxjH5rA0vnKVjHQk1YkYnkAdVLyBaQwhACTMk/s1600/CIMG2400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK8dB5DDRsiffDTklJVSroCHG0XojKwKIhkLGnEqHMJ9SW28y84Fx9mvRXkKGXUpkiodH_o3AQK756OSdQMAC_fbFZFr7QnkaTt7V1ortxjH5rA0vnKVjHQk1YkYnkAdVLyBaQwhACTMk/s400/CIMG2400.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Pink Princess parties in the garden and poses in front of the outdoor<br />
candle holders. Everything looks exotic in candlelight. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDG0EEaYOU_AN_7t0UjOjjfbZ3cQ_H7-fFiWwUQ8cbbGopF_uouynTDBc5Yw0ViUiRw5kJsKsYgVzfuH9geMIMOPepAFtsnfsQW1NvB84EDLfmmJujUqOeAiyk7XAtFL4dIkB3ymzlBQ/s1600/IMG_20120701_033834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDG0EEaYOU_AN_7t0UjOjjfbZ3cQ_H7-fFiWwUQ8cbbGopF_uouynTDBc5Yw0ViUiRw5kJsKsYgVzfuH9geMIMOPepAFtsnfsQW1NvB84EDLfmmJujUqOeAiyk7XAtFL4dIkB3ymzlBQ/s400/IMG_20120701_033834.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A go-go dancer in repose. Tired from a long night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZ0RgHJh-lIKSPu5uVQZV5h9HeIM-x9qZjrwxZ36LphB-dFM-4V2EypUXni-JbGqhy3BJ59LasKP_Dtb5eSu7zT0yA7u-yz8hCRKMg2H3ht3vOuWeM7PCdX57tFQpVCXjJKvrYTqm46M/s1600/IMG_20120701_045751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZ0RgHJh-lIKSPu5uVQZV5h9HeIM-x9qZjrwxZ36LphB-dFM-4V2EypUXni-JbGqhy3BJ59LasKP_Dtb5eSu7zT0yA7u-yz8hCRKMg2H3ht3vOuWeM7PCdX57tFQpVCXjJKvrYTqm46M/s640/IMG_20120701_045751.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loading the last of the princesses into the limousine for the ride home. <br />
This photo was expertly snapped by our chauffeur</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
12. The Ride Home. The party ended for us around 5am. The limousine driver pulled up to rescue us all from what would certainly have been a stranding without him. There are few taxis in Versailles at this hour... or perhaps none at all. I dutifully loaded up all the princesses and took them back to my Palias in the city. Everyone declared the party the 'best party ever' and there was no evidence to disagree.<br />
<br />
I can't wait 'til next year!<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading. <br />
Your friend and humble Chevalier,<br />
Robyn<br />
<br /></div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-30576855774074816972012-06-02T23:11:00.001+02:002012-06-02T23:19:15.765+02:00Carte de Sejour Day 2.0... The Renewal<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11toCoFvxFRSyXwH2YGxeZVwhuivUQp0TopD9ExIRCIrYFApgaF7Ow13dMWukNUVVyQ-EwivmlufaTQnuQ2amDFDeafEJVV6hO2gOF8gid6ye6L0Zwtok7KJwr3Wjj6I4HhryeCjBS9c/s1600/IMG_20120305_134457%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11toCoFvxFRSyXwH2YGxeZVwhuivUQp0TopD9ExIRCIrYFApgaF7Ow13dMWukNUVVyQ-EwivmlufaTQnuQ2amDFDeafEJVV6hO2gOF8gid6ye6L0Zwtok7KJwr3Wjj6I4HhryeCjBS9c/s400/IMG_20120305_134457%5B1%5D.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My ticket at the main police prefecture as<br />
I waited for my Carte de Sejour extension.</td></tr>
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My friends,<br />
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If you are like me and you live some place that you like, any threat that might change your place of residence is one that is difficult to ignore. For residents of France, a carte de sejour must be renewed every year regardless of the type of visa you have. Unlike those countries where you can simply shoot the paperwork off to your lawyer and never step foot inside an immigration related building, French immigration is up close and personal. </div>
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Here you have to do everything on your own. It is possible to hire a lawyer, but they can only assist you in filling out your papers. They can't go to your meeting with you or argue on your behalf. When I lived in the US, I found that paying a few thousand dollars for a lawyer was a bargain in that it saved me so much grief and anxiety. So, despite having retained a lawyer here, I could see no use for her services since the worst part of the process is the meeting and there is no way to avoid that.<br />
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Here's how things go went with my renewal:</div>
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1. THREE MONTHS before your old carte de sejour expires you must make an appointment to renew it. Do NOT forget to do this or let the date slide or you will find yourself back in your country of origin. Here is the link for where you create the appointment.</div>
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<a href="https://www.ppoletrangers.interieur.gouv.fr/?motif=rensej">https://www.ppoletrangers.interieur.gouv.fr/?motif=rensej</a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHUsUjzxMRSBQ4lWmHkowKUvKHimaok6O7DEC3CpgFqnYfbhGjo2V4VCIxsjfjszVYjcM_35K4Uux-_fLIZ4qsY0qjVeto4BcLHU1-_fdBu2woimOcNFzo_IsGlv3aer9gKI3IQdUcp0/s1600/IMG_1194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHUsUjzxMRSBQ4lWmHkowKUvKHimaok6O7DEC3CpgFqnYfbhGjo2V4VCIxsjfjszVYjcM_35K4Uux-_fLIZ4qsY0qjVeto4BcLHU1-_fdBu2woimOcNFzo_IsGlv3aer9gKI3IQdUcp0/s400/IMG_1194.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>One more year of fencing in Paris!</b><br />
Here I make a fencing pose before heading to the <br />
Bal des Princesses at the Pavillion Royale.</td></tr>
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2. When I went to renew, I had made a mistake. First, I put the wrong "N° de votre titre de séjour" that they asked for on the form and the website did not make me an appointment. Thinking I had a lot of time, I waited and eventually went into the police prefecture to see what I should do.</div>
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3. PANIC! I learned that though I had an expiration date on my carte de sejour (your first one is tacked inside your passport) that the expiration date of the visa was the drop dead date, not the anniversary date of the carte. I learned I only have ONE MONTH LEFT! I was ready to panic and the woman at the counter was helping me to panic, when they had an idea that I could get an extension.</div>
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4. They compelled me to get extra paperwork related to my landlord, including proof of ownership of the apartment and their passport information. Sheesh! What could I do? I asked my landlord for the stack of documents and they provided it a couple of days later. What luck that I have great landlords!</div>
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5. I went to the main police prefecture to apply for my extension. Ordinarily the renewals are done at your local prefecture. The main prefecture had a long line of people from every country you an imagine... all with the same goal... to stay in Paris another year. The line seemed not to move, but by the end of the day I did get to a desk with a nice lady who eventually gave me my extension and set me up with an appointment. For two months from the extension.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP24-XNAAw7H3aTp-v80VqlEeSRmCY041eFIZibeKl7sy6LCv-T_bTndvQspIRXTuaQmTRNv4ulYo1fWTI2fb8wW79S4KIJOj2RgDWZrWD5IecBOzEfR4oT_CZdoJHkYAKAgyNEuUqF8k/s1600/IMG_20120123_141033%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP24-XNAAw7H3aTp-v80VqlEeSRmCY041eFIZibeKl7sy6LCv-T_bTndvQspIRXTuaQmTRNv4ulYo1fWTI2fb8wW79S4KIJOj2RgDWZrWD5IecBOzEfR4oT_CZdoJHkYAKAgyNEuUqF8k/s400/IMG_20120123_141033%5B1%5D.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>One more year of art galleries and museums!</b><br />
Taken from the front of the <a href="http://www.centrepompidou.fr/">Centre Pompidou</a>.</td></tr>
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6. Back to the normal process, I had my extension and an appointment... which I could have avoided had I followed step 1 correctly. I collected my paperwork, the most important of which (well honestly I don't know if anything is unimportant to them) were my insurance papers, my lease/rental information and my bank statements showing that I still had income.</div>
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7. For most paperwork, call the people responsible such as your health insurance company and your bank. Tell them you are applying to renew your carte de sejour and they will know what to give you for 'attestations' before you even ask. Make extra sure that you have all the ancillary paperwork such as a long-form birth certificate or anything you need from the mainland. 3 months seems like a long time, but when you have to wait a month for a piece of paper... the time shrinks fast.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUx9KxDIWXqN_9UeDVlfJJANd0GGk_7q44Ivy3hZKeM-KOefADUEC4lVsoBhc7VNjL3NL9_61SxYJ5zQQ1JLGpch6Gu8IAsQFlOJfn-LXO4YbVWuhlFUCRvFr1bDvsbiph7f5Lq7G2rw/s1600/Week11Marion1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUx9KxDIWXqN_9UeDVlfJJANd0GGk_7q44Ivy3hZKeM-KOefADUEC4lVsoBhc7VNjL3NL9_61SxYJ5zQQ1JLGpch6Gu8IAsQFlOJfn-LXO4YbVWuhlFUCRvFr1bDvsbiph7f5Lq7G2rw/s640/Week11Marion1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>One more year of learning to draw!</b><br />
A one minute and 30 second sketch in a series of studies from a recent art class.</td></tr>
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8. In my case, I had last minute drama. I lost my birth certificate days before my appointment. Ahh! There was no time to get a new one. Friends, I had a scan of my birth certificate and made a copy. This was enough for the meeting. DO make sure you have scans of your birth certificate, passport, visa or any other important document and that the scans are in a safe place.</div>
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9. My meeting was at 10:30 am. I normally wake up at 7 or 8, but because I could not sleep the night before, I woke up at 10:20. DO learn from my mistake. Set an alarm, have a friend call you or both. Make sure you are awake and at the meeting. I managed to run to the appointment and arrived only 10 minutes late, paperwork in hand... filled out the admittance form and waited to see my judge. I waited 2 hours and drained my phone battery playing Angry Birds. </div>
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10. The prefectures seem to pride themselves upon being unilingual. Once in the meeting, there was little conversation except a couple long French sentences that I didn't understand. I had to reply and did so in half French/English. I was nervous and could speak neither language. The adjudicator told me that I should learn French, because if she was applying for the same thing in the US, she would need to speak English. I wanted to remind her that I'm Canadian and that the Canadian government would happily serve her in both English and French, but I kept quiet. I'm not crazy, just proud.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzVytP-2N_0dgsCX99zNMOV3yLHdwVfYk8WjrViRqy7pqIsh2aK_SAlYAR-VJzeuNvH53NkP44k012RLyss_rm6oljBL_yw_4ypaKdtgmX92Ya8aSfZJhkPua2vUGwEgEf9bqB1ANHNk/s1600/IMG_20120325_032008%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzVytP-2N_0dgsCX99zNMOV3yLHdwVfYk8WjrViRqy7pqIsh2aK_SAlYAR-VJzeuNvH53NkP44k012RLyss_rm6oljBL_yw_4ypaKdtgmX92Ya8aSfZJhkPua2vUGwEgEf9bqB1ANHNk/s400/IMG_20120325_032008%5B1%5D.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>One more year of princesses!</b><br />
Three of my dates to the Ball des Princesses at the Pavilion Royale.</td></tr>
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11. After about 10 minutes of looking at my papers without comment, my adjudicator fed a form into a special dot-matirx printer which got all churned up and came out with my information on it. I was done. Mission accomplished!</div>
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12. Because this is my first renewal, rather than a new sticker for my passport, I'll receive a separate card. I'll post a pic later. For now I have a temporary carte printed on paper and I get the permanent card in 2 months. It will cost around 100 Euros in those crazy stamps from the tobacconist. and no more worries for me... for 9 more months when I start the process again.</div>
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I hope this was interesting for you. Take care and post questions below if you have any.<br />
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Your helpful friend,</div>
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Robyn</div>
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<br /></div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-65561945512853175002012-01-21T19:12:00.000+01:002012-02-01T11:53:14.072+01:00Paris Resolutions<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Sir Robyn prepares for a NYE night out.</span>
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A happy and prosperous New Year to you, my friends and readers!</div>
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I’ve lived
in Paris about 11 months now… oh 8 months in a straight line and I’m coming up
on a pair of interesting anniversaries.
How has Paris affected me? How
have I affected Paris in my first year in the city? I’m sure that somewhere there is a great
cosmic tally, but lacking this, I can only strive to get the most out of and
put the most back into this city that I love. </div>
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Every year I
make a bold collection of New Year’s resolutions and I have done so this year
as well. The difference is that this
year, many of my resolutions are related directly to my new home and not just
to my own person. How does that
work? Well without further gilding the
lily, let me show you. </div>
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<b>Paris
Resolutions (with possible observations)</b></div>
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<b>Language</b>: The French language has proved difficult for
me; surprisingly difficult. To improve
my social standing, increase my number of friends, reduce difficulties with
various negotiations, etc., I must improve my French greatly. Rosetta Stone just hasn’t done the trick and
I get weary of it now. Therefore, I
resolve, for 2012 to:</div>
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<li>Take an
official classroom-based French course.</li>
</ul>
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<li>Improve my
French to a conversational level.</li>
</ul>
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<li>Watch more French films (or films dubbed into French).</li>
</ul>
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<li>Read at
least one adult book in French.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lGceaiIqxHo/Txk5ugmboJI/AAAAAAAAA20/L478Y0j1A58/s1600/Week8Cecelia1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lGceaiIqxHo/Txk5ugmboJI/AAAAAAAAA20/L478Y0j1A58/s400/Week8Cecelia1.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cecelia - Crayon (original) - Sir Robyn - Paris 2012</td></tr>
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<b>Art</b>: If you’ve followed my blog you know that art has recently become an important part of my day to day life, not just in the observance of it in museums, but in the creation of it as well. Last year I began taking “life classes” in which I attempt to create the likeness of a nude model in various poses from one week to the next. For this year:</div>
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<li>I resolve to continue my art classes and master the pencil and try my hand at pastels and paints before the end of the year.</li>
</ul>
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<li>I resolve to become a “Friend of the Louvre” and visit at least once a month.</li>
</ul>
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<li>I resolve to see another gallery or special exhibit at least once a month.</li>
</ul>
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<b>Society</b>: To truly be part of any place, one must have
friends. I’ve been fortunate since
moving to Paris in that I have made a few good friends in a hurry. I long to make more Parisian friends of
course, since my social life is a very important part of my overall life. Improving my French language skills will help,
but truly the bull must be taken by the horns to have a social life and I will
be very proactive this year. I resolve
to:</div>
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<li>Host a
collection of parties and/or gatherings at my home or other arranged venues.</li>
</ul>
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<li>I will say
at least one time this year (possibly in French), “Open another magnum.”</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pyramid at the Louvre glows on NYE<br />
in anticipation of the New Year.</td></tr>
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<b>Paperwork</b>:
New residents of France have one year to get a French driver’s license
and then I’m told that they have great difficulties if they let this year
pass. Also approaching is the time where
I must perform my first annual renewal of my Carte de Sejour (my resident card)
to continue to live in Paris for another year.
I will:</div>
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<ul>
<li>Acquire a
French driver’s licence.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Renew my Carte de Sejour.</li>
</ul>
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<b>Miscellaneous</b>: The following are
Paris life related… and will make sense as you read them. Lastly, I resolve to:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Enter myself
in a local fencing competition.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Eat in a
Michelin rated restaurant (maybe the Tour D’argent across the river from me?).</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Take a bus
tour into the Champagne region and taste all that I can taste.</li>
</ul>
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Well that is
all my friends. It is a lot for one
year, but I think I can do it all and a few other things. My the rest of the year bring you happiness
and prosperity. Thank you for looking
in. Please post any questions in the
comments box below and Please Please Please, if you have a click in your mouse
that you can spare, share or like this post!<br />
<br />
Your friend and humble blogger,</div>
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Sir Robyn</div>
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<br />Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-9889727706206444292011-12-10T15:38:00.001+01:002011-12-10T16:16:43.867+01:00Noël à Paris<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtUfe_iyiDAvEFG93mYFqNuT4Udi2bzN5LXecktoHZkJo3rGCZlz-yhtdqHPkXJFDbm8klsmZBoyIvwBvX4xz5Mz8PE84ZBIKvb6vC5S1yl1wRvxDt5PVxo_laJEooT-HJpcJ4DNGFJI/s1600/IMG_0699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtUfe_iyiDAvEFG93mYFqNuT4Udi2bzN5LXecktoHZkJo3rGCZlz-yhtdqHPkXJFDbm8klsmZBoyIvwBvX4xz5Mz8PE84ZBIKvb6vC5S1yl1wRvxDt5PVxo_laJEooT-HJpcJ4DNGFJI/s400/IMG_0699.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Christmas lighting on the Champs Elysee.<br />
Modern or silly? Personally, I think they are<br />
pretty darned cool.</td></tr>
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Merry Christmas and Joyeux Noël my most excellent friends,<br />
<br />
It is Christmas time in Paris and regardless of your religious, cultural or personal convictions, Christmas is as ubiquitous as winter air this time of year. Paris has a long tradition of lighting up the city without Christmas, but during the Yuletide season the lights are especially bright. I’ve taken a brief break from blogging and observing as I had to make yet another trip to Canada.<br />
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Many friends and readers would wonder why I did not stay in Canada to celebrate Christmas with friends and relatives. I decided, for better or worse, that I would spend my first Christmas in Paris as let the cards fall where they may. Hopefully I won’t spend Christmas cold and alone… <sniff> :)<br />
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<center><iframe frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.dailymotion.com/embed/video/xmjf4j" width="480"></iframe><br /><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xmjf4j_audrey-tautou-illumine-les-champs-elysees_news" target="_blank">Audrey Tautou illumine les Champs Elysées</a> <i>par <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/mairiedeparis" target="_blank">mairiedeparis</a></i></center>
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Here is my latest set of Parisian observations:<br />
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<b>Culture</b>: It seems that Paris society operates between vacations and there are many. After taking time off in October for no reason I’ve been able to understand, all of Paris will be going on Vacation for the week or so between Christmas and New Years. I will probably stick to my North American roots and do some work during this period, but I WON’T be fencing or attending art class since those are closed for the season.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An advert for an exhibit at the Musee D'Orsay.<br />
Do check it out!</td></tr>
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<b>Commerce</b>: I’ve noticed something missing. I was in the Metro waiting for a train and looking at a sign for some exhibit at the Musee D’Orsay when I noticed… I was looking at an ad for a museum exhibit. I was NOT looking at an ad for fast food. I did a quick scan and noticed that none of the ads in the Metro featured food. In America (or possibly Canada) the subway would be choked with Wendy’s, McDonald’s, Subway and Burger King ads. I haven’t noticed one such ad since making this observation.<br />
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<b>Transportation</b>: The Metro has changed. There are new cars on the #1 line that operate without a driver. They seem to stop for no reason more often and start and stop a little more abruptly than the ones with a driver, but they do the job. Another change is that the announcements are in four languages rather than just French. You’ll also hear Metro announcements both in the stations and on the new trains in English, German and Spanish.<br />
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<ul>
<li>I’ve talked a lot about musicians jumping on trains and playing in the tunnels of the metro, but lately at the Chatelet station I’ve had the pleasure to hear a large string ensemble on regular occasions. I managed to snap a picture while racing to get to art class.</li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A string ensemble who happen to be very good, entertains passersby<br />
at the Chatelet Metro station.</td></tr>
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<b>Sport</b>: Fencing. Oh, man! Things have changed at fencing class. I’ve advanced beyond the “noob” level and now fight with the advanced students. This is often a painful experience. A fencing bout goes for 5 points and the advanced class uses only the large epee. This means that I get hit 5 times for every match and… sometimes with impunity as I am unable to hit the very, very good fencers back. The result was a week of painful breathing with a bruised rib. I’m getting a little more confident in my strokes but wow… This has been a tough transition.<br />
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<ul>
<li>I now have all the fencing equipment that I need for the sport. I mentioned once before that a true hobby requires the expenditure of about $10,000… or 7,000€. So far, with lessons, club membership and equipment I’m at about the… oooh… 1,200€ mark. My equipment is very good, so I expect that it will take a long time for me to get to 7,000€…. a very long time.</li>
<li>For those concerned, I have won a match in the advanced class. I attributed the win to blind luck, but my instructor says that “In combat, there is no such thing as luck.” I may have mistranslated this. </li>
</ul>
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<b>Art</b>: It’s the last week for art class and then I have 2 weeks to study on my own. If you’ve ever wanted to be immortalized in a sketch, please look me up over the holidays! I need models badly! To be an art model, you require two simple abilities. The first is to be naked and the second is to stay still for 20 minutes… and I mean completely still. All models will be provided with the best possible champagne for their efforts. :)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L'Hommage Veronese - Pencil (original) - Robyn Blaber - 2011<br />
My latest effort in art class. </td></tr>
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<b>Entertainment</b>: Lastly, my friends, I will be hosting a Christmas soiree at my home on December 22nd. I hope it to be the best party in all of Paris. Please RSVP with me if you are a friend on facebook or leave your email if you are in Paris and would like to visit/meet me and share a glass of holiday cheer.<br />
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Bon journee and have a great holiday season.<br />
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Your true friend,<br />
Sir Robyn<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b>Bonus Picture</b>!<br />
Sir Robyn makes an appearance at an<br />
Eyes Wide Shut party at an undisclosed<br />
location in the heart of Paris.</td></tr>
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<br />Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-47195253084688311892011-11-09T01:02:00.002+01:002011-12-10T16:13:40.362+01:00Bath Time!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEb36u_qI7s4lFLjbdJnlCSek6IOB00ZGxcGfcEHCFVbL5hLqJ72E_3mwPTv40zPnmQ2Nz1vksn6xPKXWpdA2gll5EdbvMmkjRJHqvOOgAV5tTL42Oo1AqWlLVW_YSAJnBoN3FILTCkss/s1600/IMG_0653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEb36u_qI7s4lFLjbdJnlCSek6IOB00ZGxcGfcEHCFVbL5hLqJ72E_3mwPTv40zPnmQ2Nz1vksn6xPKXWpdA2gll5EdbvMmkjRJHqvOOgAV5tTL42Oo1AqWlLVW_YSAJnBoN3FILTCkss/s400/IMG_0653.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bath Abbey, situated immediately to the right of a<br />
place where you can get ice cream and champagne.</td></tr>
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Allo lads and lasses<span class="st">,</span><br />
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<span class="st">Welcome to a very special edition of my observations. You see since moving to Paris, I’ve really not travelled a lot. Some might say that I’m paying too much rent, others that my champagne bills are too high. The fact of the matter is, that I’ve been so engrossed in the city that I really haven’t thought too look around too much. Well, that doesn’t mean that I’m incapable and I’ll tell you what I did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st">I went to Bath… the legendary city with the endlessly flowing natural hot springs. It was built up by the Romans way back in the day, though legend has it that people have been taking baths there for thousands and thousands of years. I enjoyed such a bath a few weeks ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st"><u>Here’s what I observed:</u><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st"><b>Transportation</b>: The most amazing thing about getting to Bath is that I left at about 8am and arrived a little after noon. I caught the metro to Gare du Nord and from there it was a 2.5 hour ride to London through the famed Chunnel. I did not try to send any secret codes to anyone at the instant we were going through the Chunnel and to be honest, had I not been watching, I wouldn’t have noticed when we went into it. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This lady was the first historical<br />
thing I saw in bath while walking<br />
to the hotel.</td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>Another tube ride from London’s St. Pancras took me to Paddington Station where I caught the train to Bath. This train seemed slower than the French trains…. but really, it was only an hour or so and there I was. Getting off the train, I found a visitor’s bureau right there in the station.</li>
<li>The Visitor’s Bureau directed me to the hotel with a map, suggesting I should walk. Walk??? Yes ,my hotel was less than 3 blocks away. We stowed our gear and were in the center of the city in no time.</li>
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<b> Tourist Sites</b>: OK, Bath is not a big place. In the center of town near the Roman bath ruins they do free city-walk tours. It lasts a little over an hour and you get to see the main sites of the city with a friendly explanation. It’s a bit of a snoozefest, but I learned a lot about the economy of a town with a hot spring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFcitjDQFPbj1V2f6HNMs-SEwCijVv6Clmw7I9upHKowu5NrYMuHzZyCBlW6pz2sntmao-HqoozQpI4WEatK4Q5sdrmaDRyscfSocS8QfRp1YgeCzBDO1yf43CNz6iYh5en-4DkIMVKU/s1600/IMG_0654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFcitjDQFPbj1V2f6HNMs-SEwCijVv6Clmw7I9upHKowu5NrYMuHzZyCBlW6pz2sntmao-HqoozQpI4WEatK4Q5sdrmaDRyscfSocS8QfRp1YgeCzBDO1yf43CNz6iYh5en-4DkIMVKU/s320/IMG_0654.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Roman Baths. This building is of course<br />
not even sort of Roman, but trust me,<br />
there's Roman stuff inside.</td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>The Roman baths themselves are housed in a Victorian brick building. They are kind of nifty and feature several interactive displays, that explain what light was probably like in Roman occupied times. You can’t actually use the baths, however, this is expressly for Romans. </li>
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<li>If you want to take a bath yourself, there is the Thermae Bath Spa. It’s a very modern facility fed by the natural spa waters. They have a rooftop pool, a basement grotto pool, steam rooms, foot-baths, a restaurant and a treatment center for massages and all manner of lotion rubbing. You have to book ahead for massages as you’d be very lucky to get that just as a walk-in. The pools and baths and steam rooms are super-cool, however and if I lived near Bath, I could go there every day, I’m sure.</li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Roman Baths. I detected a few Roman accents while<br />
investigating... I kid you not!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a cool display inside the Roman Baths explaining the layout.</td></tr>
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<b>Vampires</b>: Vampires don’t like water. The spa is the safest place in the world that you could be.<br />
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<span class="st"><b>City Life</b>: The rest of Bath is very village-like. The center of town is closed to vehicle traffic and there are a lot of interesting one-of-a-kind shops. My favourite had champagne and ice-cream.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfKk6cwfFrfo7GcuwWw0-yNEklcTenNR5TJtgBZ8eTVBMiBGKC8ZTJAfx7gZjS2SkwW9rTc7Fi0PWUVmJPYu1fpzXpXPiOynMo5LHT_gGJONVpJMOWqKdsU0VcZb3Su8NFSyBM-zoCho/s1600/IMG_0657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfKk6cwfFrfo7GcuwWw0-yNEklcTenNR5TJtgBZ8eTVBMiBGKC8ZTJAfx7gZjS2SkwW9rTc7Fi0PWUVmJPYu1fpzXpXPiOynMo5LHT_gGJONVpJMOWqKdsU0VcZb3Su8NFSyBM-zoCho/s400/IMG_0657.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gorgeous river scene. I was lucky to get very good weather.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Pc4fCMRRmbYbdHx42l2HkWP6G9F-exKHusTQvoUIeXbXqyUt4WZTR7TPgnAoSKmRqmGpFae71aHWU5bBn9ulKBTYvKYNV7IdGQeyalPSK8fPkh2nzAjnx8v8hK8YQl-qGTbMkLpqrt0/s1600/IMG_0658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Pc4fCMRRmbYbdHx42l2HkWP6G9F-exKHusTQvoUIeXbXqyUt4WZTR7TPgnAoSKmRqmGpFae71aHWU5bBn9ulKBTYvKYNV7IdGQeyalPSK8fPkh2nzAjnx8v8hK8YQl-qGTbMkLpqrt0/s400/IMG_0658.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">This is the 18th century Pulteny Bridge. It's a favourite site for painters and<br />
gives spectators something to google if they haven't googled in a while.</td></tr>
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<ul>
<li>Because the whole town is a UNESCO heritage site, the buildings and apartments there are rather expensive to own and maintain. The populace is therefore somewhat more… well-kept than you’d normally see in a village this size.</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtavqtyJ86oULzcbDryR2-FZddgo0tnAqEGe4Y1TDHG7psOUVY-epE8cWg3k_lRQzJqzZ0Vdrbbl7A_SdAOiIahs5TAiWqiVpXKGkIKrstr1e4l_klt6HlBHBcNN-B_VLpnFrBdsJ6KJg/s1600/IMG_0659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtavqtyJ86oULzcbDryR2-FZddgo0tnAqEGe4Y1TDHG7psOUVY-epE8cWg3k_lRQzJqzZ0Vdrbbl7A_SdAOiIahs5TAiWqiVpXKGkIKrstr1e4l_klt6HlBHBcNN-B_VLpnFrBdsJ6KJg/s400/IMG_0659.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perhaps the second most famous structure in Bath is the Royal Crescent.<br />
Don't even ask how much an apartment is to rent here.</td></tr>
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Well that's all from Bath and that's all from me. Don't forget to share or comment or click on my poll. See you all back real soon!</div>
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Sir Robyn</div>
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<br /></div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-30342767309711155322011-11-08T01:56:00.001+01:002011-11-08T02:03:32.680+01:00Paris Adventures...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEo8r4gqtCthfbPAy5Lqdj6YmoGsVwZhnbY6nICUYADXnBQtWkGJLIGlK_FENvw-gzSABG_GVOhRu5nBAiCglTpp_Rc0RmBa-HLDqwVHQyr8u2f4MsKMju8oCYG7aTpPARCH4OQu-WeTY/s1600/IMG_0685%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEo8r4gqtCthfbPAy5Lqdj6YmoGsVwZhnbY6nICUYADXnBQtWkGJLIGlK_FENvw-gzSABG_GVOhRu5nBAiCglTpp_Rc0RmBa-HLDqwVHQyr8u2f4MsKMju8oCYG7aTpPARCH4OQu-WeTY/s400/IMG_0685%255B1%255D.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A canal tour boat heads through the city and <br />
prepares to tackle the intricate system of locks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Bonjour <span class="st">my friends,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st">Much has happened since my last post.
Without further ado, I’ll get right into it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st"><b>Sports</b>: I kinda knew that I
would like fencing, but I didn’t know I’d like it so much. What’s interesting is how enthusiastic I get
when it’s time to fight. One of my
fights was unbelievable. After watching
this really tall guy with long arms slaughter another of my classmates, he got
put up against me. I thought about
samurai training and how sometimes, you just have a shorter sword… well in this
case I had shorter arms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st">I decided that I would be very aggressive and get inside close and
fast. I guess he decided to be
aggressive too. We clashed… really
clashed! We crossed swords and bumped
into each other, even ending up on the other side of one another at times. The deaths were violent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st">On one pass I jammed my sword into his chest as he was lunging toward
me. My sword was nearly bent over and I
thought it would break… or go into him and I let go of the handle! The handle flew straight up. I caught the the blade with my gloved hand; the
tip the blade still poking into his chest.
<br />
<br />
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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"Touche!"
I said.
<br />
<br />
<b>
Art</b>: The Stein family collection is
hanging at the Grand Palais right now. I’ll
wager there is a Miller in the collection, but of course many great painters
will be on display. I’ve already heard
the reviews as emotional and fantastic.
I can’t wait.<br />
<br /></div>
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<ul>
<li>My art on the other hand, perhaps stirs less emotion, but is really getting a lot better. I’m about five weeks into the craft, and getting substantially fewer critics when I post my sketches on facebook. Here’s a few for your viewing enjoyment.</li>
</ul>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMel-6xb-bU_-2tusLKVGsYRyBCduTjVDAghMyQeVXdVtfDaMofJ9glz29ebSPIfIta6jhSeGHoDvzg2S7btuGjj7nXPROH5MAHn1BYSiQu6QzRyFVdoAfuMrxid5AAdp72m9y8q2HPRs/s1600/Week5Simone3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMel-6xb-bU_-2tusLKVGsYRyBCduTjVDAghMyQeVXdVtfDaMofJ9glz29ebSPIfIta6jhSeGHoDvzg2S7btuGjj7nXPROH5MAHn1BYSiQu6QzRyFVdoAfuMrxid5AAdp72m9y8q2HPRs/s320/Week5Simone3.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A quick 2 minute sketch of last week's model.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVHjMAZUgQ49JHsdmXSTGPydUS04zL0L5DWYwggYw6IKoyGkzh7FK7W2OtDX4p4RPFlKynux_OfNJTxFFKP5igxujdwQ_CnH6_eaUUATXgCKmNUsZixzyk2E7IzR1T0CZ08MuOFW_KNw/s1600/Week5Simone4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVHjMAZUgQ49JHsdmXSTGPydUS04zL0L5DWYwggYw6IKoyGkzh7FK7W2OtDX4p4RPFlKynux_OfNJTxFFKP5igxujdwQ_CnH6_eaUUATXgCKmNUsZixzyk2E7IzR1T0CZ08MuOFW_KNw/s320/Week5Simone4.jpg" width="165" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In this exercise, we were not<br />
allowed to draw the model,<br />
but only to make shapes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLekt0nGxQ9-ld-bFI3pg8CxnpLgCstbceJQc_YE6AK8IXSfuVfRQH0JRSalyIHTF6MZdhMVGk0qTAdmqX1LlVzsqHFW06M_tiB3nswAxvi7EcG_3nZ0Szz1SAcbmjXtB4YpRjxu5ONdc/s1600/Week5Simone5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLekt0nGxQ9-ld-bFI3pg8CxnpLgCstbceJQc_YE6AK8IXSfuVfRQH0JRSalyIHTF6MZdhMVGk0qTAdmqX1LlVzsqHFW06M_tiB3nswAxvi7EcG_3nZ0Szz1SAcbmjXtB4YpRjxu5ONdc/s320/Week5Simone5.jpg" width="122" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I try to draw the model.<br />
So close!</td></tr>
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<b>
Fashion</b>: Yesterday I saw a 15 year old
girl walking down my street wearing a worn pair of Louboutins. Draw your own conclusions from that…<br />
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<ul>
<li>The fall
fashions are out and disappointingly, the men’s fashions are identical to last
year; black suits with a choice of blue or purple shirt. Seriously?
Even I will have trouble trying to rock out that look, despite that I've been getting slim enough to wear one of these skinny-assed French suits.</li>
</ul>
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<b>Food</b>: I’ve
finally witnessed the supermarket at the Galeries Lafayette. Holy jumped up Jesus. I could die there. There is every kind of delicious thing a
person could ever want… and you can eat it right there.</div>
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<b>City
Life</b>: I still haven’t made the move to
bring my car to Paris. I don’t need a
car. I can’t imagine needing a car. Now, as thought to mock me for even thinking
I might one day need a car, the city has created new electric car rentals… much
on the same principal of the bike rentals.
Anyone want to buy a used Porsche?<br />
<br /></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/WY0HwoRdPag?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<ul>
<li>I keep discovering new things in the city any time I go for a walk. For example, in the 10th, I knew that there was a canal complete with locks or somesuch, but I'd never seen them work. The other day, lo and behold, was a boat going through them. It was a spectacle.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3u_iFVGtyAFQPdDOy0LGNue4oEIGB6QYt5oMhciiZAn4igWtpu9loJcoPi4fyIgjGCfVfWhIApSweJH6-837g78Mfk3DLrT7EWcOIdL3KmZAxOiutPRX33jfZpQVscZKgfU1UdIedvjo/s1600/IMG_0686%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3u_iFVGtyAFQPdDOy0LGNue4oEIGB6QYt5oMhciiZAn4igWtpu9loJcoPi4fyIgjGCfVfWhIApSweJH6-837g78Mfk3DLrT7EWcOIdL3KmZAxOiutPRX33jfZpQVscZKgfU1UdIedvjo/s400/IMG_0686%255B1%255D.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tour boat eventually goes into this tunnel<br />
where the passengers are devoured by vampires.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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That’s all
for now folks! I’ve been behind in my
posts and have stories about Prague and Bath to catch up on. <br />
<br />
See you soon!</div>
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Sir Robyn</div>
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<br /></div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-4618695175958499642011-10-09T14:40:00.002+02:002011-12-10T16:14:05.001+01:00The Way of the Samurai<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-2ccOdWNMMLKxOU5W68xOhsA_MRQvxHUC7qwNDKDMjoLGumoj4XSPcL_VOcCLeX5mceYXkbtzVd6CLk1aBmGRBZYhFrQuDVVZfQ0iiF_tVbXLxl_Za3BodRa7rBOt9jpRLo0q3_4Iz4/s1600/IMG_0801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-2ccOdWNMMLKxOU5W68xOhsA_MRQvxHUC7qwNDKDMjoLGumoj4XSPcL_VOcCLeX5mceYXkbtzVd6CLk1aBmGRBZYhFrQuDVVZfQ0iiF_tVbXLxl_Za3BodRa7rBOt9jpRLo0q3_4Iz4/s400/IMG_0801.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This fuzzy out of focus portrait has been taken countless<br />
times by Parisian tourists. It is the Mona Lisa and<br />
despite bad photography, has inspired artists for<br />
centuries... and more recently your friend and blogger.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bonjour and <span class="st">konnichiwa, my good friends,</span><br />
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<span class="st">If you’ve been following along in my blog, you know that I’ve been
reading a lot of French literature to get a feel for the mindset of where Paris
lives in the literary sense. I’ve read
many of the French greats (Balzac, Proust, Flaubert, Camus, Maupassant, and
Zola) and many American/English authors that have lived in and were influenced
by Paris as expats (Chaucer, Dickens, Maugham, Joyce, Beckett, Miller, and
Orwell). There are many more to read,
and many more I haven’t mentioned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st">The book that has influenced me most however is one you might never
expect. Even I was surprised to find
myself a devotee of Miyamoto Musashi and his Book of 5 Rings. WTF?
You might ask. It is not literature, per se, rather than an outdated and
outmoded set of instructions for being a good Samurai. How does this help a person living in Paris
in any way?<br />
<br />
Let me explain. Fencing has been an
interest of mine for years, but Paris has provided me with ample opportunities
to take it up and I have. Musashi explains, of course, how to become a master
swordsman. Well this makes sense, but he
also explains that a master in the martial arts, one must also partake in many
of the other arts. Musashi himself was a
great painter and his paintings are venerated more as religions icons than
works of art.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="st">Back to Paris; is there a better city to take up the arts? I don’t think so. The way of the samurai seems more suited to
Paris than ever I might have imagined.
My fencing is improving and so with it, my ability to create art.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="st"><u>Here are my latest observations</u>:</span></div>
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<b>Lifestyle</b>: I work on a computer all day and there is
term that works very well to describe someone in my profession; obese. I’m far from obese, but I did put on some
bulk earlier in the year thanks to being sick (it was the slow recovery that
was the culprit). For the first time in
years I’m relying on diet and exercise (next section) to deal with it.</div>
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<ul>
<li>For a man in Paris,
it’s nearly essential to be slim. For
one thing, it’s difficult to buy clothing.
French fashions are simply designed with a slimmer man in mind and even
if you get larger sizes, you’ll look like 10 pounds of mud in a five pound
bag. This is one city where being a
woman is advantageous.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>My Paris
diet was acceptable and I’ll return to that soon, but it’s no match for the
extra weight. To remind you of the Paris
diet rules: 1) Only eat food that you really like, 2) only eat when you are
hungry and 3) spend more than 2 hours at any large meal and be sure it is with
friends or family. I lost a pound a week
this way and got into great shape… but that was pre sickness.<br /> </li>
<li>My post-illness
diet is a sort of an Atkins thing. High
protein and fat with no carbs. That
means NO Bonne Maman chocolate and caramel tartelettes! It also means cutting back on champagne! Lastly, it means that I will be a very happy
man when this diet is over and I can return to my Paris diet.</li>
</ul>
<br />
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<b>Sport</b>: I
have been an athlete, but I would not call myself that right now. Fencing continues for me. It’s getting more and more exciting as the
steps are becoming more natural and we are starting to hit one another with
more enthusiasm. Here are a few fencing observations:</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>It was
suggested that it might be time to step up my practicing to twice a week. One of my fellow students said “How else will
you learn?” I don’t know. I’ll give this
extra day a try next week and let you all know how it goes.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Without considerable (any) out of class exercise, I can feel my muscles
tightening and quickening in the anticipation of the next class. I’m certain that my brain is feeding my
muscles with the information that they are going to have to act quickly… and
the muscles are repairing. I’m just
simply… stronger and faster.<br /> </li>
<li>Fencing is
FAR more physical than I ever would have guessed. Fencing to the first 5 points takes about (a
guess) 5 minutes. The energy I’ve been
expending would exceed a 3km (2 mile) run.
Every muscle gets used and every pore sweats. Your eyeball muscles strain to attack your
opponent…</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKs0pdoCINWI0rOq94bs1MXITnbxD7H6PQw3GJsoJHaf0tEkr6SO-R-yQy8_R8vcBw4MabaQw9zyGYJxIJDx5jr6FBFldSOa8LCnRE8eHklLFkpN47-6yZLp7Sb_G3uaBTUsD6v1pNtJI/s1600/musashi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKs0pdoCINWI0rOq94bs1MXITnbxD7H6PQw3GJsoJHaf0tEkr6SO-R-yQy8_R8vcBw4MabaQw9zyGYJxIJDx5jr6FBFldSOa8LCnRE8eHklLFkpN47-6yZLp7Sb_G3uaBTUsD6v1pNtJI/s400/musashi.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A landscape by the master samurai Miyamoto Musashi.<br />
Note the long and deliberate brush strokes of a swordsman.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>
Art</b>: I started art class last
Thursday. I thought it was a beginner’s
class because, I am a beginner. Perhaps
I didn’t understand the French on the website properly, but for 30 extra Euros
or so a semester my class is a “live” class, meaning that there will be
models. Here’s what I observed:</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>When I got
to my first class, a nude model was already posing and there were about 7 other
students furiously sketching. I thought
that perhaps after learning to draw apples and shit for a couple of months, we’d
start with the live models near the end of the semester. Reality check!</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Since I don’t know how to draw (hence the classes), I nervously sat down and
began to sketch in the manner of the person next to me. Disaster.
I tried my own way.
Disaster. The instructor gave me
some tips. Disaster. Disaster. Disaster.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>During the break, I felt that I had already been identified as the classes’
retarded monkey, though I struck up a Frenglish conversation with one or two
people. The topic of fencing came up,
however, and my instructor exclaimed that he’d always wanted to try out the
sport. I gave a small demonstration of a
couple of fencing moves to light applause and class resumed.<br /> </li>
<li>After the
demonstration, I thought of my mentor, Musashi.
I cleared my mind and thought of the relationship between fencing and
art. The points in space, the
perspective, the attack… and the result is below. Perhaps there is hope. Can’t wait ‘til next week.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOo_DpC7s_fu3R-7ep_-iRPY7Wpmul4ZFh99KWrT0Gb9TXlvr0POz4-607nD2fImZ3cEK1f1aoaxXxiaZRpspCSHW2NNEG1RCZQrbaeI_CWrTajbqwVMhRbU-5CTLlcWCEEQap6OHnflo/s1600/firstclass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOo_DpC7s_fu3R-7ep_-iRPY7Wpmul4ZFh99KWrT0Gb9TXlvr0POz4-607nD2fImZ3cEK1f1aoaxXxiaZRpspCSHW2NNEG1RCZQrbaeI_CWrTajbqwVMhRbU-5CTLlcWCEEQap6OHnflo/s400/firstclass.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I call this "Nude Reclining - 15th Try". </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Vampires</b>: I haven’t reported on vampires lately since
there has been low activity. I think
they prefer the cooler weather. I’m sure
the city’s vampire hunters prefer it as well.
On the hottest days I’ve seen in Paris so far, I’ve witnessed vampire
hunters (heading for a meeting?) heading through Chatelet in full leathers. They wear thick leather to protect themselves
from an opportunistic bite should a vampire get too close. If you want to see a vampire hunter for
yourself, I recommend a café near Les Halles.
Order up some champagne and wait.
You’ll see them.</div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li>I have
learned that a lot of fashion icons are prone to Vampirism these days. Don’t believe me? Check out what Vogue has to say. <a href="http://www.vogue.co.uk/spy/celebrity-photos/2011/10/5/carine-roitfeld-vampire-ball/gallery">http://www.vogue.co.uk/spy/celebrity-photos/2011/10/5/carine-roitfeld-vampire-ball/gallery</a></li>
</ul>
<div>
That is all for now my dear friends and readers! Please tweet, repost, facebook, comment, follow, like +1 or whatever you can do with a click to spread the word. Many thanks for reading.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Your friend,</div>
<div>
Sir Robyn</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-89655433039000487042011-09-26T17:58:00.002+02:002011-09-26T18:03:48.277+02:00Fight Club<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQP9k3rGiz5CfxNzcy3vqoYZ7Z-1aumkS86dUJtSo07ZHUX0HqQC3LGPtHoKe6BHlpt33f2lEplf4Cgsg2kKpYMCmZ2tF9kCrPL_e2povnCPZAiXVErNeeyXUodZnqrc5s0FSQ-NFx9w/s1600/IMG_0629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQP9k3rGiz5CfxNzcy3vqoYZ7Z-1aumkS86dUJtSo07ZHUX0HqQC3LGPtHoKe6BHlpt33f2lEplf4Cgsg2kKpYMCmZ2tF9kCrPL_e2povnCPZAiXVErNeeyXUodZnqrc5s0FSQ-NFx9w/s400/IMG_0629.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like to dress in white... and I like to hit people.<br />
The first rule of fencing club is: you must dress<br />
entirely in white and hit a lot of people.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Bonjour and welcome back!<br />
<br />
Oh my friends I have had many developments in my life in Paris. First, there is Fight Club. Recently I joined the club Les Chevaliers des Blancs Manteaux. This translates roughly into the Knights with White Coats. How do they fight? Well they first dress all in white (my specialty) and then they pick up swords and hit each other with them. The purists call it ‘fencing’ or ‘escrime’ to use the French term.<br />
<br />
Of course I’ve had the usual rash of other discoveries, restaurants, behaviours and other things that really could use mention.<br />
<br />
Here are some of my observations so far:<br />
<br />
<b>Travel</b>: Paris is home to a number of train stations, periodically housing trains that take you a long way from the city. I recently took a train from Paris down to Aix-en-Provence to visit a dear friend who is producing her own cooking show. For the first time I will debut sub-observations to tell you about it.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>The TGV trains, operated by CNCF, travel around 200km/h (125mp/h) and about 70km/h faster than the posted speed limit. To beat a train from a Paris to another part of the country by car (sports car), one would have to do a brilliant piece of driving and risk nasty fines from the police.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RXBtxTJyhx3ycTAdHGQf4En4DD08S-A6B8iV1zadfk17OHzXmIMOsgv6-5ZULruCRUgURVfxdkpNVsqQKcZvLpVwVK2SWx6XxJh2RIc7H7fhxyAAx8HiTHsTUEhemtsUBnBAcO7nG00/s1600/IMG_0630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RXBtxTJyhx3ycTAdHGQf4En4DD08S-A6B8iV1zadfk17OHzXmIMOsgv6-5ZULruCRUgURVfxdkpNVsqQKcZvLpVwVK2SWx6XxJh2RIc7H7fhxyAAx8HiTHsTUEhemtsUBnBAcO7nG00/s400/IMG_0630.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TGV trains in Gare de Lyon. Beware, to the right of this picture is a whole<br />
other section of the station dedicated to confusing a newcomer and sending<br />
passengers to further parts of the country. Ask for directions!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Gare de Lyon is a confusing place and if you must take a train there, start at the information booth. Once armed with information, upstairs you'll find a restaurant called Le Train Blue. Go there! It's a spectacle for the eyes.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXQjsGA3ljq0izsfyDsOUL_Wwfzub02uzj_2Jm9jhLmnE8LeCQylOfBZY4EIg7pO5DzlyIpE8HM-lvrcAVlCnqFBTXHaDjyCRiWGfF7ylMmYqxEtDKu5DFLCPGPrA6ibW7fjiFFcmvVU/s1600/IMG_0633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXQjsGA3ljq0izsfyDsOUL_Wwfzub02uzj_2Jm9jhLmnE8LeCQylOfBZY4EIg7pO5DzlyIpE8HM-lvrcAVlCnqFBTXHaDjyCRiWGfF7ylMmYqxEtDKu5DFLCPGPrA6ibW7fjiFFcmvVU/s400/IMG_0633.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Train Blue at Gare de Lyon. Simply breathtaking.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>A 1st class train ticket runs anywhere from 30-50% more than the 2nd class ticket (in stark contrast to the airlines) and is worth the money. You get more room, better seats and it seems a less annoying class of fellow passenger in the neighbouring seats.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>A lesson in relativity; Aix-en-Provence is the ‘big city’ to my friends, but coming from Paris it had a decidedly provincial village sort of a feel. The streets were wider with far less people. The town features has many very old buildings with moderate amounts of ornamentation as compared to Parisian architecture and is famous for its many fountains (one of its most famous, pictured below).</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_U7smtLyel0RMIVIwjzRZYt0TYS7GpCiXlHOGY4UyBq_NpaDbn8M2rRUCPC0P4EscsI5GVlnkrzj9vbE2qXx2zXvKHBu37sYTIZPXjpaCDaf0don5FVtb8f7liT4p3SxwvtijM5r5ho/s400/IMG_0639.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A famous fountain in the heart of Aix-en-Provence.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7oDnGzutw0DdoJiUNwQ3WxZOQZYubEK2aUkucW_8XF4na7wpleG-TCycS2Hy1MklRPOtGAXdsuoZAb1n-osDmZfpQI_ZrHbyiIT31tin9DMSXbfQe50xtRssMtyCJOGa091jRgTpSV7U/s1600/IMG_0642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7oDnGzutw0DdoJiUNwQ3WxZOQZYubEK2aUkucW_8XF4na7wpleG-TCycS2Hy1MklRPOtGAXdsuoZAb1n-osDmZfpQI_ZrHbyiIT31tin9DMSXbfQe50xtRssMtyCJOGa091jRgTpSV7U/s400/IMG_0642.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An example of the provincial architecture.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; color: #0000ee;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<b>Sport</b>: I’ve become a bit of a fat bastard while visiting Canada and my Paris diet hasn’t been taking off the pounds as it did. This may be because I’m taking the Metro more often when I could be walking. In any case, to combat my growing waistline and just for the sake of being in combat, I’ve taken up fencing. Here’s what I know so far about the sport:<br />
<ul>
<li>Novice fencers begin by learning footwork. It seems perhaps at first to be obvious, but I can assure you that it is not. There are 6 possible steps; forward, back, lunge, recover (from lunge) crossover forward, crossover back. A typical combination of steps might be forward, lunge, recover, and back.</li>
<li>Novice fencers, fight each other from the first day. They (we) don’t know how to fence, but the object is to practice footwork. Despite my lack of technique, I have to confess that is it VERY fun to bend my sword into an opponent… even an opponent who also has no technique.</li>
<li>Getting hit hard can really hurt, despite the fencing gear.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWE_fpnuvcJbClhPdCNWTMZG-WoAipHv0syiTfD7t4VmpRvwopXiI-psePi_cz6L405uJ1aZ9xH3K0A26M7setteBho9zvuiZZN0px22ef0pdyzsePEVnE84iPr7M_ARVTff5nFZ5poA/s1600/IMG_0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWE_fpnuvcJbClhPdCNWTMZG-WoAipHv0syiTfD7t4VmpRvwopXiI-psePi_cz6L405uJ1aZ9xH3K0A26M7setteBho9zvuiZZN0px22ef0pdyzsePEVnE84iPr7M_ARVTff5nFZ5poA/s400/IMG_0626.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Untitled", by Henry Miller. Now featured in my<br />
Paris studio. Viewings by appointment. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Art</b>: A good friend invited me to a gallery opening in the Bastille (Dorothy’s Gallery http://dorothysgallery.com/art/), which featured artists who became famous for something other than painting. Examples included Grace Slick, Jimmy Hendrix, and Henry Miller. The latter, was irresistible to me and I purchased a lithograph of Miller’s entitled “Untitled” from that very gallery. It hangs on my wall now and I am quite happy with it.<br />
<ul>
<li>Inspired by the artwork, the various artists I see in the city and a book by Myamoto Musashi, I’ve decided that it is time to try my own hand at painting. I’ve thought about doing this for years, but when I heard from Musashi that painting may also help my fencing… well then I was completely sold on the idea.</li>
<li>Like so many things, my Art Classes start in October. I’ve signed up for a year and will sketch, draw, paint and have live models thrust in front of me to immortalize with my current lack of artistic ability. Hopefully, I will be able to rise to the challenge and create brush strokes that are somewhat related to the subjects before me.</li>
<li>Oh, if you ever get a chance to read Henry Miller, of course his most famous book is Tropic of Cancer. I would call it a 'must read' for any ex-pat living in Paris. If you are American, it may be difficult for you to get past the language... oh how he uses words that are not allowed on the public television stations, but I'd say that he's perhaps one of the most well read authors I've ever come across. Writing that is simultaneously low-brow and high-brow is very difficult to do.</li>
</ul>
<br />
Well my friends, that is all I have to report for this time. Thank you again for reading. Please take the time to comment, like, +1, follow or put a mouseclick anywhere toward my online well-being.<br />
<br />
Au revoir!<br />
Sir Robyn<br />
<br />Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-42656444238748820172011-09-23T01:40:00.001+02:002011-09-23T01:42:15.578+02:00Canada<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVytMCahTXT0Y5_DgnKdsBz51WEfplU-5QoX1oy2DBMmdrXytQTUl1fz36_gGbyEiHVfX0CQ6dg17dyLCh0LsWrdUP_8jZp0zJ5IiqhmF0eV-dDakSbj_tPX97qhWNI980BSVomC23lXw/s1600/IMG_0584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVytMCahTXT0Y5_DgnKdsBz51WEfplU-5QoX1oy2DBMmdrXytQTUl1fz36_gGbyEiHVfX0CQ6dg17dyLCh0LsWrdUP_8jZp0zJ5IiqhmF0eV-dDakSbj_tPX97qhWNI980BSVomC23lXw/s400/IMG_0584.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ol' car, covered in bug guts from three <br />
provinces, gets ready for yet another boat ride. <br />
This time to Vancouver Island.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Welcome
back my friends!</div>
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As many of you may know, I've had been out of the country for a while and back in my native Canada. I didn't blog while I was there, but like any good ex-pat, every now
and then I’m compelled to return to my home country to visit relatives, tell
stories, and share my experiences. I've finally gotten around to writing something and here we go.<br />
<br />
You might wonder how I feel about Canada.
Do I get homesick? What do I
miss? You might be surprised to hear
that I’ve become somewhat of a stranger in my own country. I now look at things through the eyes of a
bewildered visitor. I wonder what
changed in me to create this effect. Has
Canada changed or is it just me… or both?
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here are
some of my observations as an insider who lives on the outside:<br />
<br /><b>
Geography</b>: I’m Western Canadian, originally from Saskatchewan (one of the
larger provinces). Canada is made up of
10 provinces, and 3 territories. 6 of
the provinces are huge… as in bigger than Texas huge. My former hometown of Saskatoon is very far
from Vancouver and very very far from Toronto.
If these are the only Canadian cities you know… then you will have to
consult google maps to find it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9NZ29c-xTpezxvrvEm8lfLgvooW52fvbsHSAM1QZ9DMnklQhKi9fjS1dMupdwC6eRIwz7N9a-dvHT4WrkHLpY6npviTT9ESruyeAqrP2g0II7TqDojRLu3d12fWSdc3Y7qwNP_7eVyM/s1600/IMG_0579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9NZ29c-xTpezxvrvEm8lfLgvooW52fvbsHSAM1QZ9DMnklQhKi9fjS1dMupdwC6eRIwz7N9a-dvHT4WrkHLpY6npviTT9ESruyeAqrP2g0II7TqDojRLu3d12fWSdc3Y7qwNP_7eVyM/s400/IMG_0579.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saskatoon City Hall</td></tr>
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<b>People</b>:
Saskatonians (those from Saskatoon) are generally a friendly lot. They suffer -40C temperatures for several
months of the year and this requires a great degree of solidarity. Settled originally by a combination of
German, Ukrainian and British immigrants, the city now boasts a far more
international population, being somewhat of a ‘starter city’ for Canadian
immigrants from around the world. I feel
very sorry for someone from the Middle East or Africa suffering their first day
of -40C weather.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmL7otJ9kG5wYPJQWgFNuBGi0oVlaD-GbW8orPhN2ViFmMVzIV5baCqGQ2TdADcUFXaGVRfMQzuoO5jRBUhcfXZz4Xf-lBqLpKGxSv0g5nhQzoiIzzjaMdp6vuFb93UvdWiT2xFFonBQ/s1600/IMG_0576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmL7otJ9kG5wYPJQWgFNuBGi0oVlaD-GbW8orPhN2ViFmMVzIV5baCqGQ2TdADcUFXaGVRfMQzuoO5jRBUhcfXZz4Xf-lBqLpKGxSv0g5nhQzoiIzzjaMdp6vuFb93UvdWiT2xFFonBQ/s400/IMG_0576.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saskatonians enjoy a day at the race track. Featured here<br />
is Saskatoon's Marquis Downs track... where I have yet to<br />
bet on the right horse.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Business</b>: When I was growing up in Saskatchewan, it was
one of the poorest provinces in Canada and this is certainly no longer the
case. Boasting rich reserves of oil,
potash, diamonds and uranium, the province is going through somewhat of a
renaissance. Saskatoon is growing, and
becoming the most unlikely of business hubs.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYaeZGXuPdbg5aTZ7GTWnUjOHeuSNrf2oFNcBAlYJlMAkIazwtfzyAT8tPPK96IJ2NC57n9c1HbS5jX99hRZ9CidONFvHZX7SOo3Md-zT24lG4ANYQG0aK4U0MN4GxozvxLzG-Z4jPaY/s1600/IMG_0582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYaeZGXuPdbg5aTZ7GTWnUjOHeuSNrf2oFNcBAlYJlMAkIazwtfzyAT8tPPK96IJ2NC57n9c1HbS5jX99hRZ9CidONFvHZX7SOo3Md-zT24lG4ANYQG0aK4U0MN4GxozvxLzG-Z4jPaY/s400/IMG_0582.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Porsche dealer in Saskatoon, says he'll sell all these cars and<br />
many times more this year. Saskatoon business is booming!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Travel</b>: Canadians like to drive long distances. The distance from Saskatoon to Vancouver, for
example is 1,678 km. Travelling this distance at the posted
speed limits would take 19 hours and 39 minutes plus rest stops. Driving by Porsche, it takes about 10
hours. :) <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Vampires</b>: Blood sucking in Canada is said to be the exclusive
domain of the federal and provincial governments. Vampires that can somehow survive the cold
are lucky to find any blood left in their victims.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Language</b>: The Western Provinces of (from east to west)
Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta and British Columbia are predominantly English
speaking. For various reasons, the
French language is actually shunned in some areas, though it is inescapable as
it appears on all packaging of any product sold in Canada. I was recently introduced by a Quebecois
friend to new friends here in Paris who described me as HALF Canadian… because
I only spoke English.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mountains</b>: There is nothing as majestic as the Rocky
Mountains. I’m sorry they don’t have a
more majestic name. For the price of a
few gallons of gas, they can be enjoyed at will. They are a spectacle in any season of the
year… and almost too grand to behold.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHy2rxLRVdwphDtZNbV-Ep5HaAb3CaTD5oAObuoC6aYfTzSvs6-5sVlc4wTTWgPay96_qICBWZMLWYqKt0Oj3qrNboke-RFm9CuWQA6ml3illuq0eYdU9sAhLe8WkMx-_VZVkrxLC0UU/s1600/IMG_0583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHy2rxLRVdwphDtZNbV-Ep5HaAb3CaTD5oAObuoC6aYfTzSvs6-5sVlc4wTTWgPay96_qICBWZMLWYqKt0Oj3qrNboke-RFm9CuWQA6ml3illuq0eYdU9sAhLe8WkMx-_VZVkrxLC0UU/s400/IMG_0583.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a Starbucks at the commissary area <br />
at the Tsawassen ferry terminal.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Water</b>: It seems that in life, I am moving to smaller
and smaller islands. I’ve lived on
Vancouver Island, Oahu and now the tiny Isle Saint Louis. Travelling to Vancouver Island and the neighbouring
islands is most frequently done by boat.
For a reasonable fee (to some), one can drive their car right onto the
boat, and ferry across to the neighbour island while watching the coast drift
by. As a resident I hated the bother of
a ferry commute, but as a visitor I love the chance to get out on the water.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfOUXMOn_q_xmXKHEEJH9vSs-O8s3OmORRM38-hBIPj8vypzcle4pMZxHgLbZxOUMWVHop2IEV0J2mQ_yRrWF4RR-w-qdkRwz6SgbiWU83m8jLBQgaroWGd17jadtNZr7EQqWkN1HOzk/s1600/IMG_0588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfOUXMOn_q_xmXKHEEJH9vSs-O8s3OmORRM38-hBIPj8vypzcle4pMZxHgLbZxOUMWVHop2IEV0J2mQ_yRrWF4RR-w-qdkRwz6SgbiWU83m8jLBQgaroWGd17jadtNZr7EQqWkN1HOzk/s400/IMG_0588.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view from one of the many BC Ferries. This one leaving from Tsawassen<br />
(south of Vancouver) to Duke Point (in Nanaimo). </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Hippies</b>: My last impression upon leaving Canada was
the observation of a species I call the West Coast Hippie. If you thought you needed a time machine to
see a hippie, then you are mistaken.
Tribes of hippies still live in British Columbia and tend to prefer the
islands. They can be spotted by layered
clothes of poor quality and often a knitted fabric. The males wear full and uncombed beards and
the females tend to smell of cannabis and eucalyptus oil. Like their counterparts of 50 years ago, they
can be heard quoting Karl Marx, making various references to ‘weed’, and never
ever ever will they mention anything job or work related.</div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90ET7A-lX7p6TdRE5SDSUgymUNtIACDsXpvnkj9j30sXQOvDKHwHHgHaKqg_P5KFFoI-RlOvm4wPVzylH6M-mWsSpmrFMBZ3Y9ADiZr2GKik9GInrvLZyBOhcY4XyF2pJ8rWGDuHfrA4/s1600/IMG_0596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90ET7A-lX7p6TdRE5SDSUgymUNtIACDsXpvnkj9j30sXQOvDKHwHHgHaKqg_P5KFFoI-RlOvm4wPVzylH6M-mWsSpmrFMBZ3Y9ADiZr2GKik9GInrvLZyBOhcY4XyF2pJ8rWGDuHfrA4/s400/IMG_0596.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was my ride back to Vancouver. I sat right next to the pilot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Thank you for reading my friends, more Paris observations are on the way.<br />
<br />
Your humble friend and observer,<br />
Sir Robyn</div>
Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-91382094137698920522011-09-05T01:10:00.000+02:002011-09-05T01:10:19.791+02:00The Little Things<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeyvw1sMZ5SRR9q0IFrpbXX-JRSnTVct0VpB89iHKLQwqluYnn4AxlPj0k0CXG0MuR1quPCpOVvJKCwF8XEXwEmt2q8FbisALny1MJRZ_3QxJ4K0x5Hv3td8XhVk6BpBnwfBQuNwxmiE/s1600/IMG_0599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeyvw1sMZ5SRR9q0IFrpbXX-JRSnTVct0VpB89iHKLQwqluYnn4AxlPj0k0CXG0MuR1quPCpOVvJKCwF8XEXwEmt2q8FbisALny1MJRZ_3QxJ4K0x5Hv3td8XhVk6BpBnwfBQuNwxmiE/s400/IMG_0599.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Champagne senses bubbling, I look upward to <br />the 3rd floor of the Eiffel Tower. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bonjour friends and Paris lovers,<br />
<br />
It’s been a long time since my last blog and for good reason. I have travelled many thousands of miles in the past few weeks and have only just settled back in my Parisian home with tons of work to do!<br />
<br />
Like anyone with deadlines to meet, my return to Paris featured visits from friends from around the world.
With guests in town, of course it was incumbent upon me to take them to the local tourist attractions… only to discover that there was more and more to learn about then than I had known before my repeat visit. The new discoveries and observations were well worth the price of admission; I can assure you my friends. Now, have a look at the latest observations and start planning YOUR trip to Paris so I can show you around.<br />
<br />
<b>Food</b>: I’ve never been a huge fan of pastries since the calorie/pleasure ratio has never been high enough for me to indulge very often. You will have to trust me on this point; there is a difference between French and North American pastries. The North American variety that I’m so accustomed to assault your taste buds with a salty/sweet (Americans use salted butter in baking) explosion that is overwhelming to the taste buds at every corner, leaving little room left for what is described as the main flavour you expected to enjoy. In French pastries, the flavour comes first.<br />
<br />
<b>Drink</b>: At the top of the Eiffel Tower, there is a champagne bar. I did not know this until I noticed it on the website. It’s on the top level of the third floor. I’ve walked right past it. It’s only a bar with no seating; they serve champagne in a plastic conical flute, some of which glow in the dark at night. I cannot think of a cooler place to drink champagne.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEHZ0CSF_C11k7XaPp-SP1I8amjge51uvmrzGXLn-dZfu1EAwiQv7Xf_7UDjaNXO7rJkwmKj4oXYXfTqll-5XAzOxJQlE_4Rv_eTXKjEVW7S8m-eqb5pJeDVQC4epHrdZJsd-gPEbRlU/s1600/IMG_0608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2SUmPJ3xcJ9HMayj1txtZmOdUj-APV-r3YUUeDCNq3_2ZnTBEHu-FOO2908HNNRxbGjyGV5ObQjnhBzQQxlpIbgWqkVPa3Gpy0jlaH-m-JXzK6Q7p0FFzPygod5y4perH5qZTSAX79c/s1600/champagnebar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2SUmPJ3xcJ9HMayj1txtZmOdUj-APV-r3YUUeDCNq3_2ZnTBEHu-FOO2908HNNRxbGjyGV5ObQjnhBzQQxlpIbgWqkVPa3Gpy0jlaH-m-JXzK6Q7p0FFzPygod5y4perH5qZTSAX79c/s400/champagnebar.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My champagne sense was correct! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Language</b>: I’ve had a few visitors since I've been back, all of whom were convinced that I have learned to speak French fluently. I’m coming to understand that perhaps the French one needs to order food and champagne is enough to appease the desires of my friends in particular. This does not displease me.<br />
<br />
<b>Travel</b>: Last month, I discovered that for a little over 200 Euros (per person), one could get to Prague (or many other nearby cities) for 4 days including hotel. I mention Prague because that is where I went. I’ll post another blog entry about that once I’m settled.<br />
<br />
<b>More Language</b>: I had my first French conversation the other day. A flustered woman asked me where the nearest bathroom could be found, while I was doing my laundry. She asked in French and rather than hearing it all as a blur… I understood every word. I even replied in French as best as I could, augmenting with a little Frenglish at the end to clear up a misunderstanding.<br />
<br />
<b>Even More Language</b>: I’ve noticed that I can hear accents in my French speaking friends. I was surprised to take note that a good friend of mine and French citizen had an accent that didn’t seem to quite be… what I would expect. She confirmed my observation and explained that French was her second language after learning Spanish as a child.<br />
<br />
<b>Vampires</b>: Like the rest of Paris, vampires take the month of August away from the city. Many go to Prague.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEHZ0CSF_C11k7XaPp-SP1I8amjge51uvmrzGXLn-dZfu1EAwiQv7Xf_7UDjaNXO7rJkwmKj4oXYXfTqll-5XAzOxJQlE_4Rv_eTXKjEVW7S8m-eqb5pJeDVQC4epHrdZJsd-gPEbRlU/s1600/IMG_0608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqEHZ0CSF_C11k7XaPp-SP1I8amjge51uvmrzGXLn-dZfu1EAwiQv7Xf_7UDjaNXO7rJkwmKj4oXYXfTqll-5XAzOxJQlE_4Rv_eTXKjEVW7S8m-eqb5pJeDVQC4epHrdZJsd-gPEbRlU/s320/IMG_0608.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The minipalais restaraunt at the Grand Palais.<br />Simply divine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Architecture</b>: You won’t find a more beautiful convention center in the world than the Grand Palais, at the end of the Champs Elysee. Walking past it the other day, I noticed people on the balcony on the leftmost wing of the building. Assuming it to be a private party, I decided to try my hand at crashing it… walked up the stairs and discovered that they have opened a bar and restaurant there called Minipalais. I had rose Veuve Cliquot on the balcony overlooking the Petit Palais and surrounded by 12 meter-high pillars and relief sculpture. Absolutely breathtaking.<br />
<br />
<b>People</b>: August 22 seems to be the magical date that the end of the vacation season here and Parisian start to return just as the throngs of tourists seem to thin.<br />
<br />
<b>More Food</b>: I had the unusual luck and good fortune to pick up a little bag of macarons at the publicdrugstore on Champs Elysee. Unlike a regular macaron with a kind of gooey middle theirs were creamy in the middle and kind of squirted their juices into your mouth upon biting into them. My first, labelled rose petal released its flavour which quickly infused into my whole body… and possibly my very soul. I might describe it more accurately as an orgasm for the tongue.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bvQECrlGpPATazsEsJSxMaXyeXqRI4VLdwQjk_x-EMb1j5GUegA9NCPys_TeLzNNMmTJcFABYV3QJnuYCzIsStXybl0X-MxF4wR5aawj9g3C_YWjPvPatJc3Lnl2FgNxa2qeNwpPvO8/s1600/IMG_0565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bvQECrlGpPATazsEsJSxMaXyeXqRI4VLdwQjk_x-EMb1j5GUegA9NCPys_TeLzNNMmTJcFABYV3QJnuYCzIsStXybl0X-MxF4wR5aawj9g3C_YWjPvPatJc3Lnl2FgNxa2qeNwpPvO8/s320/IMG_0565.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh Climaxol! Where were you when I was<br />just a girl?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Sex</b>: Climaxol. A drug promising better orgasms for women has been splattered in poster form all over Charles de Gaulle airport. I’m quite certain that I can compete with this drug.<br />
<br />
<b>Sports</b>: I’ve decided to take up fencing and begin lessons on the 12th of September, just ahead of my next birthday. I went to a fencing outfitter, expecting to fork over about a thousand Euros for a full set of fencing gear and much to my astonishment, they would only sell me a glove. 15 Euros! Apparently they have a strong belief that I’ll be back for more gear as my lessons progress and are in no rush to take all of my money now.<br />
<br />
That’s all for now folks! Please keep looking in. There are many more observations to come.<br />
<br />
Bisous et a bientot!<br />
Robyn
Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-10244705198939201302011-07-17T23:38:00.003+02:002011-07-17T23:50:02.266+02:00WTF Moments<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCC0Wu6Y2yYqBMTewz4yY3hSsf2E1sq7Wrn5eIG-71CRf7COV8-D1JpmX7-YESwx6EHSceEYqOLEGVZ9u6sop1gowPvPe9UkfF1-aKHQE8wACksdeChqfnytSaUzhSSF1Ugejy1jBlFk/s1600/IMG_0543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCC0Wu6Y2yYqBMTewz4yY3hSsf2E1sq7Wrn5eIG-71CRf7COV8-D1JpmX7-YESwx6EHSceEYqOLEGVZ9u6sop1gowPvPe9UkfF1-aKHQE8wACksdeChqfnytSaUzhSSF1Ugejy1jBlFk/s400/IMG_0543.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The country prepares for the Bastille day fireworks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bonjour and Aloha my friends,<br />
<br />
Well another few interesting days have passed in Paris since I last posted. My previous blog about the party in Versailles has been my most largely visited blog posting ever! I don’t think it will make me famous however, but I was sure happy to see all the comments. This week’s comments start right from the morning of the party. Grab a seat and stay enjoy!<br />
<br />
<b>Transportation: </b>Finding a cab in Versailles at 5am is not possible. If you have not arranged for a cab, a horse or some other mode of transportation, your only recourse will be to catch the “B” Train, which leaves Versailles for Paris a little after 5:30 in the morning. If you are still in 18th century dress, well just go with it.<br />
<br />
<b>Food: </b> Bonne Maman chocolate and caramel tartelettes are a lot like sex. Firstly, they are addictive. Secondly, the maximum enjoyment comes near the end. Once the pastry and chocolate parts have melted away in your mouth, the caramel hits and the effects are orgasmic. It’s about 20 seconds of eating for about 2-3 seconds of sheer pleasure. And then you do it again.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zbKqizIiaSmzv_TP_XQe1J4zV_BG2nkQmR656iWhfzZlMA5jPhEGxNt2grCLUmtsvNmNbjFbXzYb07nlXiETtS8Tmhfco0niK2W2Xs4zj2O8qekWVBzznXDPNFyNzRXIGDCwaHGG478/s1600/bonnemaman.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zbKqizIiaSmzv_TP_XQe1J4zV_BG2nkQmR656iWhfzZlMA5jPhEGxNt2grCLUmtsvNmNbjFbXzYb07nlXiETtS8Tmhfco0niK2W2Xs4zj2O8qekWVBzznXDPNFyNzRXIGDCwaHGG478/s400/bonnemaman.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonne Maman tartelettes pictured sideways thanks to<br />
a rare blogger.com feature that will only post such<br />
things... sideways.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<b>Weather: </b>I don’t like to talk about weather as a rule, but nothing about the weather here falls within my expectations. When summer officially arrived we had a couple of days that were in the 35C (95F) range but today it’s 17C (63F) out. WTF? That’s quite a range. Like most places, they do these 5 day forecasts that are complete bullshit, though I have to say that the weather has cooperated perfectly for both the Versailles Party and the Bastille Day celebrations.<br />
<br />
<b>WTF: </b>Arriving near Place to Concorde after partying at Versailles, I found a military band practicing for Bastille Day. They had a difficult time keeping their eyes on what they were doing. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTAycF2U2L0iPBRT4d8aOLICsaEdkmWK0omrwLL2q8XAbYkMk687ZO_co4fQwUQOmr_OWyQ-N3hcQy_jguQ0AZvL4Iq5hwCHox5xmpIOXIR71SrUgdKb0XQCY1I9foouZLG6ciixMqN4/s1600/IMG_0526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTAycF2U2L0iPBRT4d8aOLICsaEdkmWK0omrwLL2q8XAbYkMk687ZO_co4fQwUQOmr_OWyQ-N3hcQy_jguQ0AZvL4Iq5hwCHox5xmpIOXIR71SrUgdKb0XQCY1I9foouZLG6ciixMqN4/s400/IMG_0526.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hmm... where did these guys come from? It's 6am!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKzxWWTA_7AS8xP-REi_SwI-n4iM9zriimpvrc0nZEJDqO60ofaK1wr_0FTYN9bnf_bF-aUKbqcPYItVR50igFywjHnnYsnsj_LPUw9gIlTKrH9SI4Uco0SiyMHnjq_kIi1dbvOji2ZM/s1600/IMG_0527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKzxWWTA_7AS8xP-REi_SwI-n4iM9zriimpvrc0nZEJDqO60ofaK1wr_0FTYN9bnf_bF-aUKbqcPYItVR50igFywjHnnYsnsj_LPUw9gIlTKrH9SI4Uco0SiyMHnjq_kIi1dbvOji2ZM/s400/IMG_0527.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can still play this thing when I'm laughing... really!</td></tr>
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</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJzlcskQv4wWw4HlvKi8QEc9RzI7zWM2UejPy04g70UflrJ8SKxhp6IifEXJi-R3wB168PgELjO9tQPqqA_s_Q8zxA9PTiQ3WEhFIif0r_XLuQOgkXwOuYF8LgQLRWkMFygaHlhGGJJKw/s1600/IMG_0531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJzlcskQv4wWw4HlvKi8QEc9RzI7zWM2UejPy04g70UflrJ8SKxhp6IifEXJi-R3wB168PgELjO9tQPqqA_s_Q8zxA9PTiQ3WEhFIif0r_XLuQOgkXwOuYF8LgQLRWkMFygaHlhGGJJKw/s400/IMG_0531.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Soldier! Eyes front! Don't look at the 18th century costumes</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">that are completely out of context with everything you know.</div></td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>Culture: </b> France's national holiday is Bastille Day. Paris, being the capital naturally gets the biggest party. The military parades and all kinds of celebrations city wide nothwithstanding, they filled the Parc de Champs de Mars (in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower) to capacity with 1.2 million people for a concert and fireworks celebration. The fireworks were the best I've ever seen... alas, all I have to show you is what my stoopid iPhone was able to record. </div><div><br />
</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEEZ-NvtP-sekBYtbqH81nAigS8RdwQ-CYJN5STx-UHSePBZmDK9t1BIdQKDHS1QRDpvV3DlctZidgLoUOh9X8MyEHB3z9kWlmwFQsf6a5ZD9BV8N1DZ4DAOpBjgMNSJai-OmR6MSU_E/s1600/IMG_0546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEEZ-NvtP-sekBYtbqH81nAigS8RdwQ-CYJN5STx-UHSePBZmDK9t1BIdQKDHS1QRDpvV3DlctZidgLoUOh9X8MyEHB3z9kWlmwFQsf6a5ZD9BV8N1DZ4DAOpBjgMNSJai-OmR6MSU_E/s400/IMG_0546.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dusk approaches and the crowd gets impatient!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUz69-0cGYIkiB4E1ge_dlKLm1jikPT57TLZsIN95Qkw5nF9CcvvbliojVKt-IryxAfUuE5vN6K0k7MFlqk5DCLhkkeOYCpcOiiMh_p0ORbg5Q5wNvjyQJkYTj4ZH90hzDwPtbf01ubs/s1600/IMG_0561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUz69-0cGYIkiB4E1ge_dlKLm1jikPT57TLZsIN95Qkw5nF9CcvvbliojVKt-IryxAfUuE5vN6K0k7MFlqk5DCLhkkeOYCpcOiiMh_p0ORbg5Q5wNvjyQJkYTj4ZH90hzDwPtbf01ubs/s400/IMG_0561.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ooooh! Ahhh! </td></tr>
</tbody></table><b><br />
</b><br />
<b>More Culture: </b> Near the Bastille, I found a protest going on by supporters of the Ivory Coast Gbagbo regime. OK, you are probably thinking, where the hell is the Ivory Coast and who the fuck is Gbagbo (bag-bo)? Well he’s this African dictator dude who wasn’t much into elections… you can read about him here: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laurent_Gbagbo">Laurent Gbagbo</a> , but you won’t figure out where the heck all these supporters came from to fill the Paris streets.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd6-OKaJNoxFsRESzTC7ZJ5BnVh0BZsqEPHK_hZOqatT7KTKYAG4hyqnlTkGUzrqD8nAzdqRFhMUKm3V7f-ZlI-Btkrsj1_fUFxafKXi2Ffadsrq2oyGuSlU3ATveCR_JO0yMPFCGRuZ4/s1600/IMG_0484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd6-OKaJNoxFsRESzTC7ZJ5BnVh0BZsqEPHK_hZOqatT7KTKYAG4hyqnlTkGUzrqD8nAzdqRFhMUKm3V7f-ZlI-Btkrsj1_fUFxafKXi2Ffadsrq2oyGuSlU3ATveCR_JO0yMPFCGRuZ4/s400/IMG_0484.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crowd starts to get ugly, taunting police and actually hitting police cars.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bxVneEp7PQQ9pYyO_EVHo2XX6tRbIpNH3ZEIRNdVwyCtYbb8W8rzRBeaSU3PJvRqJDq6KIPhmsqpQ3ZiCLPKWVej1O5RPMRBXwUjaO3L0XG4rzEGwFtL5xENKLxo2_j-TrRWMIJ6HYo/s1600/IMG_0490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bxVneEp7PQQ9pYyO_EVHo2XX6tRbIpNH3ZEIRNdVwyCtYbb8W8rzRBeaSU3PJvRqJDq6KIPhmsqpQ3ZiCLPKWVej1O5RPMRBXwUjaO3L0XG4rzEGwFtL5xENKLxo2_j-TrRWMIJ6HYo/s400/IMG_0490.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Paris police are kinda used to this sort of thing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnduph_MMcSugydZqZxIR8wdlhcqE05UkQYRUgYhPtDCFq878VXYTTrg9uZ-YNb3-7sMHATZwuBDYAjQQxLoZ1A6mgvkxA0usGMMmdiliGFwtk9Sxb5s-AaiN-Wi-OCb_I77oGOLyW8k/s1600/IMG_0492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnduph_MMcSugydZqZxIR8wdlhcqE05UkQYRUgYhPtDCFq878VXYTTrg9uZ-YNb3-7sMHATZwuBDYAjQQxLoZ1A6mgvkxA0usGMMmdiliGFwtk9Sxb5s-AaiN-Wi-OCb_I77oGOLyW8k/s400/IMG_0492.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">The police were very professional and got the crowd under control<br />
without swinging a baton. It was like watching a ballet.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<b>People: </b> I’ve had two visitors from American this month, one an old colleague and the other, my brother’s wife’s sister’s family came from Washington D.C. The latter was very pleasant and happy to follow me around, particularly once more through the Louvre. I was lucky enough to see a new special exhibit with images of Christ… gotta love Donatello. The former guest did not really take to the city, unwittingly referring to Parisians as “public nuisances”. This was in reference to how Parisians tend to party near the Seine at all hours of the night, within earshot of my apartment at times. I found her observation to be particularly hilarious.<br />
<br />
<b>Art: </b> I find art everywhere in the city. In the 6th arrondissement (district) I found this sidewalk just bursting to be part of the art scene.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtpms2zLRcivWySEdK0oDxa0myn9VgPhlzmzg-n67m60cKmqz5BqDAnkJ9HcEQHEcjtemMyJlZauYRV_GT6E8pJb5TK2sLaxnfKFlgjl72q44FXwTtjP4qcISirnfDxlHsIC48RNiWLg/s1600/IMG_0495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtpms2zLRcivWySEdK0oDxa0myn9VgPhlzmzg-n67m60cKmqz5BqDAnkJ9HcEQHEcjtemMyJlZauYRV_GT6E8pJb5TK2sLaxnfKFlgjl72q44FXwTtjP4qcISirnfDxlHsIC48RNiWLg/s400/IMG_0495.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
That’s all for this post my friends. Please comment, like, +1, or whatever you can do to share the warmth. Oh… and don’t for get to vote on my poll! Thanks again for reading.<br />
<br />
Sir Robyn<br />
<br />
P.S. Sorry that there is no vampire news this week. Stay tuned next when when I go to Prague, which is basically Europe's vampire playground.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-80558551641410294672011-07-11T09:45:00.000+02:002011-07-11T09:45:59.903+02:00Party Like It's 1789<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkCLS3M5GZrucrfHZx5cCH3iJ_2jQ_GA9p_iRWsALhid0byedzRG1FwBzhbuWHXpic3jVDr9dNiVxZ2XwzPnqoblTUQHaqMR_WSydblZgyv3wBN3wHAmg3Zmv5xUX5PFvgWZOwYEvlrY/s1600/IMG_1520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkCLS3M5GZrucrfHZx5cCH3iJ_2jQ_GA9p_iRWsALhid0byedzRG1FwBzhbuWHXpic3jVDr9dNiVxZ2XwzPnqoblTUQHaqMR_WSydblZgyv3wBN3wHAmg3Zmv5xUX5PFvgWZOwYEvlrY/s400/IMG_1520.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to rock like Amadeus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bonjour and greetings my friends from around the world!<br />
<br />
Paris wasn't the talk of the week, but rather a little town just outside of Paris called Versailles. Versailles features a remarkable castle called the Chateau Versailles that was built over a period of nearly 100 years and started by the sun-king Louis IV. Here's the history for any nerds reading this: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palace_of_Versailles">Palace of Versailles - Wikipedia</a><br />
<br />
The building and gardens are absolutely stunning and have been in the hands of the people since 1789. Few parties have been held there since, though a famous treaty or two has been signed. You might remember the Treaty of Versailles from history class when you were a kid. I think the Germans just made the last payment on that one last year. <br />
<br />
According to my sources... there have been 3 parties in Versailles in the past decade. One for royalty, one for an Indian billionaire and last night's part which was open to the public... insomuch as the public that could afford the costume, tickets and transportation to Versailles. For me this was a new record in party expense and I don't care to talk too freely about it but lets say that over 1,000 Euros fled my bank account before the night was over.<br />
<br />
The party itself was held in the Orangerie, a garden nestled off to the front right of the castle (or back left if you think of the street as the front). The garden is famous for it's box-planted trees and is surrounded by an indoor pavilion with HUGE vaulted marble ceilings. The venue was absolutely stunning... astonishing... I was drunk with awe before the champagne even had a chance.<br />
<br />
From here, my friends. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.<br />
<br />
Your friend,<br />
Sir Robyn<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRTrlzLzdPMNjwRcdOkN71Hc0n20aqgNqE8I2UFSUSZaMfSeiUMbeYIfrjygBaCjD-m_zlIXhWWgNTOHPoQsT-82Bc8q2z1X1fCrouSmaJOXICF6SR9qIENtgCIPx8yK-b_z6Pobf1Wg/s1600/IMG_1512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRTrlzLzdPMNjwRcdOkN71Hc0n20aqgNqE8I2UFSUSZaMfSeiUMbeYIfrjygBaCjD-m_zlIXhWWgNTOHPoQsT-82Bc8q2z1X1fCrouSmaJOXICF6SR9qIENtgCIPx8yK-b_z6Pobf1Wg/s400/IMG_1512.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What? You didn't think I'd go without a date did you?</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BZaBriab8n_ObcVKpzazjLZKDw5_FCE6j-8_63LB67jfsWS5LzIS2xRyFcJTwsyguolirknwDB_1-6ZZg8XXyUtkwA0d-N9pCqdQ_gRwP4Jn8X4cj_RQxxOR6WRifqvuFdWyY4VxW5c/s1600/IMG_1557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BZaBriab8n_ObcVKpzazjLZKDw5_FCE6j-8_63LB67jfsWS5LzIS2xRyFcJTwsyguolirknwDB_1-6ZZg8XXyUtkwA0d-N9pCqdQ_gRwP4Jn8X4cj_RQxxOR6WRifqvuFdWyY4VxW5c/s400/IMG_1557.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls... giddy with anticipation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y63Q9VvBz_Ae6Nu-jyPm91VSvNM38nevK0FreUjX1A8ljNUVKFa4QfBxsdzWixco9NjzmKb6N6z2d_q6gIwwtd0BdL298SoB3PU-zOML7uE8AjRgLR02UJJPzHHvumdOZ_0Tz_eGtGM/s1600/IMG_1537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y63Q9VvBz_Ae6Nu-jyPm91VSvNM38nevK0FreUjX1A8ljNUVKFa4QfBxsdzWixco9NjzmKb6N6z2d_q6gIwwtd0BdL298SoB3PU-zOML7uE8AjRgLR02UJJPzHHvumdOZ_0Tz_eGtGM/s400/IMG_1537.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-party fireworks lit up the gardens.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDgrwABBH-ZNedgCt6kCZOSTXhWb9l4nebCcMya4QUwVGyQneeHh6MFgJgPtM9Al_nDAUn20p4DBJgyICfJ2_-MtZG3qd_v5J222OwII2-bdMxMTRs-rD6oigxHfj1ce_jQYH8AFgzFw/s1600/IMG_1538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDgrwABBH-ZNedgCt6kCZOSTXhWb9l4nebCcMya4QUwVGyQneeHh6MFgJgPtM9Al_nDAUn20p4DBJgyICfJ2_-MtZG3qd_v5J222OwII2-bdMxMTRs-rD6oigxHfj1ce_jQYH8AFgzFw/s400/IMG_1538.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ooooohhh!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDpa1WJjVXHq8RZcjLqaro-EuTGEXR_263ncdUALKjPXFDnjqv9-M4AzfvxtlGRtalf0Hp6q36rfZKBLLTjJZHtPcgXHvAHClayeCOkpL-AKUGRL1qt7QMNnojJ6cxRjADOerGUWVma8E/s1600/IMG_1546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDpa1WJjVXHq8RZcjLqaro-EuTGEXR_263ncdUALKjPXFDnjqv9-M4AzfvxtlGRtalf0Hp6q36rfZKBLLTjJZHtPcgXHvAHClayeCOkpL-AKUGRL1qt7QMNnojJ6cxRjADOerGUWVma8E/s400/IMG_1546.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahhhhhh!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUinaRdtChckANS3hJ0eFbXvOC3O7FKwDrAbtVxrij2KsK7ZaQl01Zf-2v3IPqpWTVTVzsOkNDOyyVbklfeJz1F7NBB38KJKZi1i_xo0c0fMvY5BPu6i_6p6ZJg1D0JujjsL9mbvcA6v8/s1600/IMG_1562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUinaRdtChckANS3hJ0eFbXvOC3O7FKwDrAbtVxrij2KsK7ZaQl01Zf-2v3IPqpWTVTVzsOkNDOyyVbklfeJz1F7NBB38KJKZi1i_xo0c0fMvY5BPu6i_6p6ZJg1D0JujjsL9mbvcA6v8/s400/IMG_1562.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A subtle gesture reveals that it is time to party.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmqRSNU5P_qIZMsKBIRzAlxziWyx0PU68Ue0jeAN2WD-c7F8_CUH6JpvtgULxRSzqvvvlu1jA2LYfiyI0Zxyw0wC6npqOtCdQhSZB0LKarMLfk7yawytYRs3B95oHXWSrxVaMuy-URCI/s1600/IMG_1567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmqRSNU5P_qIZMsKBIRzAlxziWyx0PU68Ue0jeAN2WD-c7F8_CUH6JpvtgULxRSzqvvvlu1jA2LYfiyI0Zxyw0wC6npqOtCdQhSZB0LKarMLfk7yawytYRs3B95oHXWSrxVaMuy-URCI/s400/IMG_1567.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, don't worry about that. I'm ready to party.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNh5ERNm6UedbxD38uSp8mI4hHJhcajULAP6NHDqD0WlRsl0-RcRP4Ae2qjSujwo7jmyHvqtmKhVEFoPSx-vxRnK7cpuNwsngbAz3UoKmDjhGW8HMfCqiT5-EAA_jtiqmiAIt8c0Fmj0/s1600/IMG_1579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNh5ERNm6UedbxD38uSp8mI4hHJhcajULAP6NHDqD0WlRsl0-RcRP4Ae2qjSujwo7jmyHvqtmKhVEFoPSx-vxRnK7cpuNwsngbAz3UoKmDjhGW8HMfCqiT5-EAA_jtiqmiAIt8c0Fmj0/s400/IMG_1579.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The excited guests are funneled into the hall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tVGBnbg_OiSKY7Uxlp10OlR8h92_Gxx5w6Wbm13xYhyphenhyphenJ1PXp7OeYSXzg8uS-ou5GB_qut1eWKxqvAm64LDBZGUBGdw9gtEfaX4LRG2yBQt6Xi0HLGjQFjmfekBJN9aJYvE_6PxgMRtA/s1600/IMG_1580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tVGBnbg_OiSKY7Uxlp10OlR8h92_Gxx5w6Wbm13xYhyphenhyphenJ1PXp7OeYSXzg8uS-ou5GB_qut1eWKxqvAm64LDBZGUBGdw9gtEfaX4LRG2yBQt6Xi0HLGjQFjmfekBJN9aJYvE_6PxgMRtA/s400/IMG_1580.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ooooh! Ahhh!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fmvRfoO-lDWLp9FtLajDLNESmi-jHz-BGPABbHqX6TKwv4lL8lZY8T3S6AOibdefioOFtZoWS35kZ6dZFk60FCsC1VM8EaaKurVq-Hb7j3kTyiXCitN8vyKPdujlcQs6MZbkamikhyphenhypheng/s1600/IMG_1584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fmvRfoO-lDWLp9FtLajDLNESmi-jHz-BGPABbHqX6TKwv4lL8lZY8T3S6AOibdefioOFtZoWS35kZ6dZFk60FCsC1VM8EaaKurVq-Hb7j3kTyiXCitN8vyKPdujlcQs6MZbkamikhyphenhypheng/s400/IMG_1584.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view from the VIP section.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmlJE0FDlefKISmzJpHkf_e3zrChSVvtI7whJc7Qf37CsIIZ39zjIs5xwBL_sNF2bynXfT9GEiHm0lrHTlI8aBecdZZfbvOgkx4jwhPacMOlhWGIrTPnoUA4pP8Yx0to7sgYURB_7Di8E/s1600/IMG_1591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmlJE0FDlefKISmzJpHkf_e3zrChSVvtI7whJc7Qf37CsIIZ39zjIs5xwBL_sNF2bynXfT9GEiHm0lrHTlI8aBecdZZfbvOgkx4jwhPacMOlhWGIrTPnoUA4pP8Yx0to7sgYURB_7Di8E/s400/IMG_1591.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well dressed VIP's.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FtH78rxFSso6H0SXsB0v7Ty-UHfY9Oi-zAYy6u6wZi1E1IDc5kwCgu6vL2KETB5FXWenu4Foe2Q1kzNCONSf8EsfSBRRK5sHTJpsJEtSZd9fEgP_G1kVcP0hsGDJsYYjA7XXYlfyYvM/s1600/IMG_1600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FtH78rxFSso6H0SXsB0v7Ty-UHfY9Oi-zAYy6u6wZi1E1IDc5kwCgu6vL2KETB5FXWenu4Foe2Q1kzNCONSf8EsfSBRRK5sHTJpsJEtSZd9fEgP_G1kVcP0hsGDJsYYjA7XXYlfyYvM/s400/IMG_1600.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sir Robyn stops to plan his next move.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLndhN7U16h0_CveB56nzCSi3RDE8YiXvNfXgDgomUisKQGv1MX30pDix-NKRe9rKmlXmoom9Q_FoaQikUeH6QmJ6DnmFQhnjklAOWYrqhm06IHmtnc2szWq5G4FlCR3yFFWO48Z3m_qg/s1600/IMG_1606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLndhN7U16h0_CveB56nzCSi3RDE8YiXvNfXgDgomUisKQGv1MX30pDix-NKRe9rKmlXmoom9Q_FoaQikUeH6QmJ6DnmFQhnjklAOWYrqhm06IHmtnc2szWq5G4FlCR3yFFWO48Z3m_qg/s400/IMG_1606.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ladies conspire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaON-gsZQaywZomfnosK8YoZMrE3Qjs5CY6YeiRgmMwi4EOMz_yCUWmjVxqOuSa8GRKbt6uuQ61ppXSLuBu5Vg6tEjHTxmvwmMmvU8lB0umnlDelTc_2QqS_g2zNxDSsW3fYiup62rq2o/s1600/IMG_1631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaON-gsZQaywZomfnosK8YoZMrE3Qjs5CY6YeiRgmMwi4EOMz_yCUWmjVxqOuSa8GRKbt6uuQ61ppXSLuBu5Vg6tEjHTxmvwmMmvU8lB0umnlDelTc_2QqS_g2zNxDSsW3fYiup62rq2o/s400/IMG_1631.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sir Robyn: International gadfly; time traveller.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiECMEVD5UFzvk44y4moX5aO0CPIoOJDR5J9gVObJNhPW49MFhLuIGj3Jmiiu2lGQvFwTYxmJeubgTJcIK_EVFpcrsm3fJfPuL7v5dgnssZxfRQZJoQBPFFimeYGOE1MOlmT_pPFC7Z1Bc/s1600/IMG_1648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiECMEVD5UFzvk44y4moX5aO0CPIoOJDR5J9gVObJNhPW49MFhLuIGj3Jmiiu2lGQvFwTYxmJeubgTJcIK_EVFpcrsm3fJfPuL7v5dgnssZxfRQZJoQBPFFimeYGOE1MOlmT_pPFC7Z1Bc/s400/IMG_1648.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mid-party fire show. Why not?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwl2A-Y8wKJXpl-728cR55b9PtokGgVEmuMtoV_P7LOMZdyys_8Qv2kevWA225r_0mAEc7satOpE_63IjeFTm5us0w3Fba_ScQRGJN-aUb2RSgXmY3nUvbwwkb3BQCxBPK2l3pI0RtcY/s1600/IMG_1655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwl2A-Y8wKJXpl-728cR55b9PtokGgVEmuMtoV_P7LOMZdyys_8Qv2kevWA225r_0mAEc7satOpE_63IjeFTm5us0w3Fba_ScQRGJN-aUb2RSgXmY3nUvbwwkb3BQCxBPK2l3pI0RtcY/s400/IMG_1655.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the dancers burst into sparks and flame!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdJ9Cmh5NQMwNUKIUBSk6P3hvP5fHNmOSgSGehqHe2jdFKD31e0IjBqyJSOY_qJm4U8H5B7NRl-amOOAcLX3aj8TE2-uomNDiM9VBTNSjcuazDxVp6SaalyjLKCEI6NDidtLIiPfsJHU/s1600/IMG_1692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdJ9Cmh5NQMwNUKIUBSk6P3hvP5fHNmOSgSGehqHe2jdFKD31e0IjBqyJSOY_qJm4U8H5B7NRl-amOOAcLX3aj8TE2-uomNDiM9VBTNSjcuazDxVp6SaalyjLKCEI6NDidtLIiPfsJHU/s400/IMG_1692.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time to mingle with the Parisian gentry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRmwa6cQ1fqX1yexcNerNy6zH1gUL8SJHoo3F3IcSGrYYdz4mNv3FNOb0LjM3UnCqTz2iNMW9LYOEAkqmhQ0Eo6hNpKhiIjK3RrA2nOFTlG2g8Hpd9lBFduFtA6JcRefkZ091hsWt0_w/s1600/IMG_1694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRmwa6cQ1fqX1yexcNerNy6zH1gUL8SJHoo3F3IcSGrYYdz4mNv3FNOb0LjM3UnCqTz2iNMW9LYOEAkqmhQ0Eo6hNpKhiIjK3RrA2nOFTlG2g8Hpd9lBFduFtA6JcRefkZ091hsWt0_w/s400/IMG_1694.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">12:30am: Fresh gays are shipped in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5AQDwuX4BeYs_2A-O4nMoDKp83Ctxb5FU-2e-sqtmyWtRpX36VNX8GJ2wJPhaKORfRVhS19zjVnJk0B0b4mI1Ocz2OM0gCTx1YIDVz2DXwFXtVxnpgGFyaryACeneh1c-y0Qrf2YTpaI/s1600/IMG_1698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5AQDwuX4BeYs_2A-O4nMoDKp83Ctxb5FU-2e-sqtmyWtRpX36VNX8GJ2wJPhaKORfRVhS19zjVnJk0B0b4mI1Ocz2OM0gCTx1YIDVz2DXwFXtVxnpgGFyaryACeneh1c-y0Qrf2YTpaI/s400/IMG_1698.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Revellers dance the night away.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aTGRFwa47NIdrYhhazjpQPfb1I_y1sJdhQntTXc0EoBWtf-_6SvOvFg9xe09L1PyB9yOV4cQ_TANKpKjS09PkocZ0eHNYpzmLh1I2CKyL7CZMRKZLDRkxIKiU4ZJZPFQD1zvla52Wgg/s1600/IMG_1706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5aTGRFwa47NIdrYhhazjpQPfb1I_y1sJdhQntTXc0EoBWtf-_6SvOvFg9xe09L1PyB9yOV4cQ_TANKpKjS09PkocZ0eHNYpzmLh1I2CKyL7CZMRKZLDRkxIKiU4ZJZPFQD1zvla52Wgg/s400/IMG_1706.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lanky man attempts to dance a quadrille.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSt0Imt1kZdUR-xNtogpBaJ0IkxdEM2ko8kgIj8U9BVx8GAui9-V3o6VS6OcFV-umslt8vCNuTj9NQxAkn6CR4uCg6p7DDDvDAeeJGD_KUTowkuTHD0GW4Qspt072mXAOBUSrJnLGW_E/s1600/IMG_1708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSt0Imt1kZdUR-xNtogpBaJ0IkxdEM2ko8kgIj8U9BVx8GAui9-V3o6VS6OcFV-umslt8vCNuTj9NQxAkn6CR4uCg6p7DDDvDAeeJGD_KUTowkuTHD0GW4Qspt072mXAOBUSrJnLGW_E/s400/IMG_1708.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The professional dancers enthrall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-Ghsublug7eivOFUOOJ7pxZ7igr2RgUt-L3r0MrxhS_d25aqVAIuajIFsd-2hY2l75NxV8s7spKuvdP-gVzaE1R4OeenHiWwtHDHpAXgIJM4WhsVLFAamG5uFr0swsDdQw1a9HdvecQ/s1600/IMG_1709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-Ghsublug7eivOFUOOJ7pxZ7igr2RgUt-L3r0MrxhS_d25aqVAIuajIFsd-2hY2l75NxV8s7spKuvdP-gVzaE1R4OeenHiWwtHDHpAXgIJM4WhsVLFAamG5uFr0swsDdQw1a9HdvecQ/s400/IMG_1709.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A creative and colourful costume.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM5n-g1HncUG0Sg_N5hhGoRyHWDPh3jlpPkQQnN1CG3yivTjWXK7S3E5R6-opbvjtBeAuM1tqAeZHs_rktWXvXfT8bk6oesKn970pFS0-p8tDf1iC2WqkDZnUaQtqbltN3QJFzOTq8yHc/s1600/IMG_1711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM5n-g1HncUG0Sg_N5hhGoRyHWDPh3jlpPkQQnN1CG3yivTjWXK7S3E5R6-opbvjtBeAuM1tqAeZHs_rktWXvXfT8bk6oesKn970pFS0-p8tDf1iC2WqkDZnUaQtqbltN3QJFzOTq8yHc/s400/IMG_1711.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The military was present.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zzbber_sjR8Q4NIQVtBmkXVVJzv3V4JbL0RnjcfCHsIMdRv58_50twEO9t66tHOPnHCvG5QMFu1o7PJrwvnBYunut1ZSOYObLNWpVfhrMYtmQ9BSdHKpFAsfQZhmClk3GD73N0zAN5g/s1600/IMG_1714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zzbber_sjR8Q4NIQVtBmkXVVJzv3V4JbL0RnjcfCHsIMdRv58_50twEO9t66tHOPnHCvG5QMFu1o7PJrwvnBYunut1ZSOYObLNWpVfhrMYtmQ9BSdHKpFAsfQZhmClk3GD73N0zAN5g/s400/IMG_1714.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dancers had several acts, each of which was quite unique.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkhLbPTrrEitEPXyzw4oJhoaV5fKH1kM0-bFE0SXP41cF8SUTTmb5aXPhGG08-B4ZD6rfUhsukY6iCW2yLOesDrTAvu2A4Ovj4tLEpMwNqbA8kxHRtx04m6KrI2diMQ2Fh3wP4nc1zOk/s1600/IMG_1715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxkhLbPTrrEitEPXyzw4oJhoaV5fKH1kM0-bFE0SXP41cF8SUTTmb5aXPhGG08-B4ZD6rfUhsukY6iCW2yLOesDrTAvu2A4Ovj4tLEpMwNqbA8kxHRtx04m6KrI2diMQ2Fh3wP4nc1zOk/s400/IMG_1715.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M'lady!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwlvo7ONNTOxN2n9sMEd1iZirI7SCkg1T9LCKD0AXuo2Ezxd2aEBCR4kep1IJAJPeztoRXY9kAfRfJQSzPWTKG3Dv0pP2bHATzq784ZM3LRE7jdyRp1Vl4grgzYTKiAQM8l4osedRWHw/s1600/IMG_1716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwlvo7ONNTOxN2n9sMEd1iZirI7SCkg1T9LCKD0AXuo2Ezxd2aEBCR4kep1IJAJPeztoRXY9kAfRfJQSzPWTKG3Dv0pP2bHATzq784ZM3LRE7jdyRp1Vl4grgzYTKiAQM8l4osedRWHw/s400/IMG_1716.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slinky. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFG60Icj5CZViUC3E2xq6csj4EyiT6YughpV0TgboIY0GHWX9fUstf1DIgZwo2NdmvDF4xEEbHNmZ6LZC4paEfna9WjmpH7RtVGrdZzg6c9ptvzzhnGi-48MgTNIq3mKFIP02tRBySoBM/s1600/IMG_1721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFG60Icj5CZViUC3E2xq6csj4EyiT6YughpV0TgboIY0GHWX9fUstf1DIgZwo2NdmvDF4xEEbHNmZ6LZC4paEfna9WjmpH7RtVGrdZzg6c9ptvzzhnGi-48MgTNIq3mKFIP02tRBySoBM/s400/IMG_1721.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More conspiring.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgds56a-PVtBIRzyJ_cKTSqSkyCP_T7TuBXkAoM70GX6nBLpzCBxr4vGhj7cthcpnQyzIEnzhvAQHe3YpipTHRF6Iau3Vlmk16q78oMHTt0ff8QPtE3ILEfLXnTUixEkT6KgT2cRerTMcU/s1600/IMG_1722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgds56a-PVtBIRzyJ_cKTSqSkyCP_T7TuBXkAoM70GX6nBLpzCBxr4vGhj7cthcpnQyzIEnzhvAQHe3YpipTHRF6Iau3Vlmk16q78oMHTt0ff8QPtE3ILEfLXnTUixEkT6KgT2cRerTMcU/s400/IMG_1722.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marie Antoinette pays a visit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigyCw0zHLHVN1K7xsIvvQIw9_CFXE_YHcM1h4Hn_G3kHfUYX5b3iCIiaiZezv_tajdGnMiord84Yk6B9ECGYTHDHWrAajU-t3aSdUbqNxA5zXJ_FyeHh9t9wp43zQ_27L4cE1vOcRYD5g/s1600/IMG_1729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigyCw0zHLHVN1K7xsIvvQIw9_CFXE_YHcM1h4Hn_G3kHfUYX5b3iCIiaiZezv_tajdGnMiord84Yk6B9ECGYTHDHWrAajU-t3aSdUbqNxA5zXJ_FyeHh9t9wp43zQ_27L4cE1vOcRYD5g/s400/IMG_1729.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The women werent' the only ones to conspire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWyWzf2eDmrz_X5kcBRZvzvjDwxcnP_-e8fGOqt2GZUVTfcJsJ5ZEXAr-f5oYVuse3Z3nMaqgSDtuYOYGxe6WRvZlISZA28dT3Kr6eFpu1ZC0vH9hcm0FJQ__FoBX8YZRoCHMHShbrPI/s1600/IMG_1730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWyWzf2eDmrz_X5kcBRZvzvjDwxcnP_-e8fGOqt2GZUVTfcJsJ5ZEXAr-f5oYVuse3Z3nMaqgSDtuYOYGxe6WRvZlISZA28dT3Kr6eFpu1ZC0vH9hcm0FJQ__FoBX8YZRoCHMHShbrPI/s400/IMG_1730.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8bbqz0KmOcNWiFAIpT5AKR48jBdqYBoAKwvkX9f7DeKuCtUedXsOnmoIY09KQoz129F1Grr4k5witpGMPxAIQlcs18InFkanx8aF0CCHDXQeE3Lpk9vgYPtjPuQUermz3XGUvmgW7g0/s1600/IMG_1734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8bbqz0KmOcNWiFAIpT5AKR48jBdqYBoAKwvkX9f7DeKuCtUedXsOnmoIY09KQoz129F1Grr4k5witpGMPxAIQlcs18InFkanx8aF0CCHDXQeE3Lpk9vgYPtjPuQUermz3XGUvmgW7g0/s400/IMG_1734.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCJELEidDeG8Zt2QiiI-r9VvXPqtWZbWSErybEnpEJbLnPDhc2tXOfuVLcepoOEcglmXm1S_zgoMlBRtu-3m52CH83IEiZU2DLFpFZmnRCtjguDVVILJzO3aWsuq8qO8pdrf9mk6fMso/s1600/IMG_1736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCJELEidDeG8Zt2QiiI-r9VvXPqtWZbWSErybEnpEJbLnPDhc2tXOfuVLcepoOEcglmXm1S_zgoMlBRtu-3m52CH83IEiZU2DLFpFZmnRCtjguDVVILJzO3aWsuq8qO8pdrf9mk6fMso/s400/IMG_1736.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A scene from the VIP room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithIxgXZH38MzwfmHCFU4wAWRvkcUYBnBk6tBrhtJL9jvSfHCkeyuZqoJQtbOLvzXx45he2Ee6IhiimCAIu2FvFNyfCbcy6FOwLZ1Wf-eufUIcwDzYgRE1ON552xH9oP-1YPU1BhPoZNg/s1600/IMG_1739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithIxgXZH38MzwfmHCFU4wAWRvkcUYBnBk6tBrhtJL9jvSfHCkeyuZqoJQtbOLvzXx45he2Ee6IhiimCAIu2FvFNyfCbcy6FOwLZ1Wf-eufUIcwDzYgRE1ON552xH9oP-1YPU1BhPoZNg/s400/IMG_1739.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A man in a dress insisted that I take his picture. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqg7oTAfJO2cuFF6cJ8UvlB9Tr-ucTl5dpXbiAW0jtjxHcLPMC8if8qMab0BzZiGE8WvQkqbBrUpU9AKutj4kMAwx92Kz5xMzjrP0MO71k7oZOWIGJ2hXB0Td9Bj2E5VZRVQFB_9_K-CQ/s1600/IMG_1751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqg7oTAfJO2cuFF6cJ8UvlB9Tr-ucTl5dpXbiAW0jtjxHcLPMC8if8qMab0BzZiGE8WvQkqbBrUpU9AKutj4kMAwx92Kz5xMzjrP0MO71k7oZOWIGJ2hXB0Td9Bj2E5VZRVQFB_9_K-CQ/s400/IMG_1751.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVLPnb1SlZCOh5Pdtc6f65-fm-MSISSJO8KG5sR3CI9qxHlGZrtrunimnmIZ6Le7pwXNpb5-D9n_dwYyUPtEJhWxPOir3eDJ9-BQRsnrybeYNaz9VOzL2t7TB4slr0XRHzoEOoDRvM2ic/s1600/IMG_1752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVLPnb1SlZCOh5Pdtc6f65-fm-MSISSJO8KG5sR3CI9qxHlGZrtrunimnmIZ6Le7pwXNpb5-D9n_dwYyUPtEJhWxPOir3eDJ9-BQRsnrybeYNaz9VOzL2t7TB4slr0XRHzoEOoDRvM2ic/s400/IMG_1752.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinftTQOhQiWGvizoqINBt-WZH7oObXylSvybVJl5HpsZM8UhYqZb5xWN458Pq2T7R2QIDzD6sP-ZIxvQyuNOuapi5065bgw_Co6TFvLesdhAzWuobTV31j0rc0jL4dWoJcdTG4rx8WVkY/s1600/IMG_1754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinftTQOhQiWGvizoqINBt-WZH7oObXylSvybVJl5HpsZM8UhYqZb5xWN458Pq2T7R2QIDzD6sP-ZIxvQyuNOuapi5065bgw_Co6TFvLesdhAzWuobTV31j0rc0jL4dWoJcdTG4rx8WVkY/s400/IMG_1754.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A flirt. A very very excellent flirt.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYF0obZAtWwJe0xtLyNI8UAony25fh5NJ_Ignud6w12RwoxTb5dGoZBUvawZoXheumf-Wab5hsmk5Zz79zWAyRdRTMSYmyLj3FfrU72nrMdNOz9VfHFBOfpilz3WcDqp8V8EANU9SehM/s1600/IMG_1756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYF0obZAtWwJe0xtLyNI8UAony25fh5NJ_Ignud6w12RwoxTb5dGoZBUvawZoXheumf-Wab5hsmk5Zz79zWAyRdRTMSYmyLj3FfrU72nrMdNOz9VfHFBOfpilz3WcDqp8V8EANU9SehM/s400/IMG_1756.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A baron and Baroness of high distinction.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC-GsyY7XPLi40s1Y1ubsw48kNJ8V5ulIkDpy96A789DeFN4ubY3yZL6pTqIzHBi-XCwWR51P3OvGCG2G6ncOlvALXTlw1eXeVOG6uOVSOjWLneDwhfbz-gtRRHoejngq62lu4xzWS7E/s1600/IMG_1760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC-GsyY7XPLi40s1Y1ubsw48kNJ8V5ulIkDpy96A789DeFN4ubY3yZL6pTqIzHBi-XCwWR51P3OvGCG2G6ncOlvALXTlw1eXeVOG6uOVSOjWLneDwhfbz-gtRRHoejngq62lu4xzWS7E/s400/IMG_1760.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Champagne is not to be wasted!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-73199307200511214152011-06-26T22:46:00.007+02:002011-06-27T21:59:13.347+02:00Checking in Around Paris<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKE2YdXpcHvGPGktiSp2bxxx5eSuEKLqO6uA8cvwxe-6gJkPZSh2-YV2rY9ljjT0TAih5Qe4khcRz4EwTd2M1VmgbyEXVBvlOnTwBJshIgFxd32N8BXVIjncn_XGGEUUNVeQTB64VtpI/s1600/IMG_0412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKE2YdXpcHvGPGktiSp2bxxx5eSuEKLqO6uA8cvwxe-6gJkPZSh2-YV2rY9ljjT0TAih5Qe4khcRz4EwTd2M1VmgbyEXVBvlOnTwBJshIgFxd32N8BXVIjncn_XGGEUUNVeQTB64VtpI/s400/IMG_0412.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fountain in Chatelet near Les Halles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Bonjour, aloha and welcome, my friends,<br />
<br />
It's been a busy two weeks since my last blog post. I've completely suspended my search for a new apartment and have decided to stay in my tiny apartment with the sexy view. My most excellent and understanding landlords are going to work with me in getting some furniture which will be better suited to my life/work and the SOLDES (sales) have begun in every shop in Paris. I think I shall soon be the owner of a new and comfy bed and a desk that better suits my computing habits. So, without further ado, here are my observations:<br />
<br />
<b>Technology: </b> It only just occurred to me that I can check into places as I wander around Paris. I see my friends checking in at Joe’s Dine & Dash and thought, “Hey! I can check in at the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame and the like,” and now I do.<br />
<br />
<b>City Life: </b> Never lock your key in your apartment in Paris. Locksmiths here charge through the nose. I was offered a locksmith service for 200 Euros who promised not only to break the lock, but charge me up to another 800 Euros to replace it. I decided that for 200 Euros I could break my own lock. In the end, good friends put me up for the night and the landlord arranged a new key for me the next day, free of charge.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl3nVeqKy7AsPN8TCF2RQodILXGzyMiSL2PyFIQLzyoAi8zB_Km2P8YRfWG0BrsBF-lh-387Ul19a7Bwsbfdz8N_MbrxqGfwQFoaEeNRBryuFWZAu1yVz-a6MtvmI5pfna-Lu7lVVEMs/s1600/IMG_0464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl3nVeqKy7AsPN8TCF2RQodILXGzyMiSL2PyFIQLzyoAi8zB_Km2P8YRfWG0BrsBF-lh-387Ul19a7Bwsbfdz8N_MbrxqGfwQFoaEeNRBryuFWZAu1yVz-a6MtvmI5pfna-Lu7lVVEMs/s320/IMG_0464.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Durex. Woot!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Sex: </b>There are condom machines on the street here. They can be found just about anywhere.<br />
<br />
<b>Culture: </b>I’m officially part of Parisian culture. This is also true of most kinds of bacteria, but let me explain. There is a small cadre of ex-pat bloggers who take the time to explain Paris to both non-Parisians and Parisian Anglophones. Over time, I hope to feature a few of these other bloggers on my blog for a bit of cross cultural exchange of ideas.<br />
<br />
<b>Sport: </b>Since arriving in Paris the only sports I’ve noticed were reports on the Internets about the Stanley Cup. To think that I nearly moved to Vancouver… I could have been an instigator in a riot! Oh well, there will be demonstrations in Paris I can participate in, I’m sure.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapKBDEas96JnbR4BvBOoMvIUzGZ0Uzv_btB_QT1Ju4gRRmg-YIqbjqjuCdfUgYKFX7lGI63hFaSIaRzClFYBnBtUtj02xv-663Zvg9Uii9Ga5d7_hFssFvRjgOPo3WjaAQtDQlaTpNE8/s1600/IMG_0450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapKBDEas96JnbR4BvBOoMvIUzGZ0Uzv_btB_QT1Ju4gRRmg-YIqbjqjuCdfUgYKFX7lGI63hFaSIaRzClFYBnBtUtj02xv-663Zvg9Uii9Ga5d7_hFssFvRjgOPo3WjaAQtDQlaTpNE8/s320/IMG_0450.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bicycle path cuts its way through the<br />
busy streets and sidewalks of Paris.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Transportation: </b>I’ve mentioned that getting around the city on a bicycle is possible and maybe even less dangerous than other cities. Now cyclists are kinda psychotic and the French certainly have their moments, and so where would a French cyclist ride? On a cycle path! (Get it?) Here’s one below:<br />
<br />
<b>More Sport: </b>Next week I start fencing lessons. This has been on my “to do” list for years and now… it is finally happening. I’ll be taking private lessons ‘til September when group classes start. If I get good fast (I’m pretty handy with my fists), then I’ll probably continue with private lessons as well.<br />
<br />
<b>Fashion: </b> When the temperatures in Paris dip below 19C (below whatever room temperature is in F), it seems that everyone in Paris sports a jacket and a scarf. I’m convinced that this is for fashion more than for comfort, though my French friends wonder how I can survive the cold without a jacket when it gets to be so cold. "These are my Canadian powers at work," I reply. They murmur a long “Ohhh" and nod in understanding. :)<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivOEuz9ybYzWmiYU_rVhdy6kHDzWtxllTKbhLNBt863cLraIV6aliFkJ4Y-yUtDbgu6c7IuSn26xmTtcL0QIz1qrkPtRzaef0JHuClYnJlsm-wVseaAcTnOVTn76Sgs40AI6DK46YMaZs/s1600/IMG_0465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivOEuz9ybYzWmiYU_rVhdy6kHDzWtxllTKbhLNBt863cLraIV6aliFkJ4Y-yUtDbgu6c7IuSn26xmTtcL0QIz1qrkPtRzaef0JHuClYnJlsm-wVseaAcTnOVTn76Sgs40AI6DK46YMaZs/s320/IMG_0465.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cook'n With Class. Remember you saw<br />
it here first, my friends. Unless you've<br />
already been there in which case... </td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Food: </b>I was treated to check out a place called Cook’n with Class in the 18th. Yes, I was brave enough to go into the 18th without a sidearm. It turns out that this is a great place for an Anglophone to take a few French cooking classes on their visits to Paris. The link is as follows: <a href="http://cooknwithclass.com/">http://cooknwithclass.com/</a><br />
<br />
<b>Architecture: </b> I could swear that when I left, there were was not a guard fence at the Saint Paul metro station. I’ve taken the liberty to examine them and they look like they have been there for years. They totally weren’t there! I swear!<br />
<br />
<b>Vampires: </b> 2 weeks ago, I had noisy neighbours across the hall. Vampires came as I mentioned last time. This week, I have no neighbours across the hall. No one says anything about it.<br />
<br />
<b>Pride: </b>On Saturday, the gays had a pride parade that raced around Le Marias. For the most part, I didn’t notice any difference between that and a regular day in Le Marais except the music was a lot louder. Today (Sunday) penitent Catholics went through a similar path praying and singing hymns very loudly. They say that you should not judge someone’s taste in music, lest your taste in music also be judged. I gotta say though, the gays have WAY better music than the Catholics.<br />
<br />
That’s all for this time my friends. I hope this blog posting finds you in the best of health and spirits.<br />
<div><br />
<br />
Your humble servant,<br />
Sir Robyn<br />
<br />
P.S. If you have a few extra mouse clicks for your humble friend and Parisian blogger… please leave a comment or “follow” my blog, or “like” it, or “tweet” it, or “share” it or whatever you young kids do on the Internets these days. Many thanks in advance.<br />
<br />
</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-71840392140462408582011-06-12T17:15:00.001+02:002011-06-12T17:16:48.282+02:00June: Summer Approaches<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLcxTMB5wRqNh7JQnrcqOs6VvCeFhHjpWtg9uIhvVXIRB2Qqb2Mq46hik4qjoCkAUsFWiAezDGUrkjgn2LGPruuhTdIXwjcvAkUsmso-qHvD3V91rqlBbFI3Eib3eSJlLimiy4roIi6Q/s1600/mime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLcxTMB5wRqNh7JQnrcqOs6VvCeFhHjpWtg9uIhvVXIRB2Qqb2Mq46hik4qjoCkAUsFWiAezDGUrkjgn2LGPruuhTdIXwjcvAkUsmso-qHvD3V91rqlBbFI3Eib3eSJlLimiy4roIi6Q/s400/mime.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mime, now nearly extinct in the wild is<br />
pictured here at the Louvre museum. This<br />
specimen appears to be a female, a hopeful<br />
sight for the continuation of the species.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Greetings my most excellent friends!<br />
<br />
Well it is another day in Paradise. Paris has been warmer than usual for this time of year and opening the window has done little to cool things down in my apartment. I know summer is coming because the superhero films are starting to show up in the theaters. Also, I have to plan a trip back to Canada to keep tabs on my clients, my family and my baby niece, whom I miss dearly.<br />
<br />
The past two weeks have seen a bit of an uptick in my social life, though I've made no progress whatsoever in finding a new apartment and have decided to be content with where I am for the foreseeable future. I suppose that should I desire to entertain more than two people, I will have to make use of a public venue until I can change or increase my fortunes. In the mean time, I have made many new observations!<br />
<br />
<b>Culture: </b> I saw a mime! After six months in the city and being convinced that mimes were a total French myth, I’ve finally seen a mime! But this sighting raises questions than it answers. Are there more mimes? Where do they come from? Where do they go?<br />
<br />
<b>City Life: </b>You’d think that in a big city, people would walk very fast. This is true in most big cities, but not Paris. I notice this in particular when I’m in a hurry. The sidewalks become like a highway where everyone is doing 20 clicks below the speed limit. As soon as you pass one, another slow person is right in front of you. The more I look, the more I notice that no one here seems to be in a great hurry. Now if they are behind the wheel of an automobile, that’s another story.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><b>Automobiles: </b> While considering the enormous amount of paperwork that will be required to bring my car over from Canada, the automakers on the Champs Elysee continue to tempt me with these rare and unpurchasable concept cars. I love cars, but I’m starting to think that I may never drive again without drastic measure.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rCwI7BuFASTrux6_3p08hmOA64akee38xTZSTs3kWVlPaIF4NNwaig09Tzn_6WXIlm58vLkCMe2eESCFICgONpGC6mWrfyL4KvBVteP64wnGAgnuoiBJrxSdWgDBGnf9BZgf0d9W07w/s1600/IMG_0409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rCwI7BuFASTrux6_3p08hmOA64akee38xTZSTs3kWVlPaIF4NNwaig09Tzn_6WXIlm58vLkCMe2eESCFICgONpGC6mWrfyL4KvBVteP64wnGAgnuoiBJrxSdWgDBGnf9BZgf0d9W07w/s400/IMG_0409.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A concept car from Toyota that has never see a Parisian<br />
street. You can tell this is true because it has no dents.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Vampires: </b> The vampires are back this summer from wherever they were. Today they were going door to door in my building knocking and asking to be invited inside. I’m not certain how many neighbours I have lost today. Also knocking on every door this Sunday; the slightly less frightening Jehovah’s Witnesses.<br />
<br />
<b>Language: </b>In my seemingly vain attempt to learn French, I’ve been dutifully translating my Roger Hargreaves books from French to English. I’m learning, but slow. Also, I’ve purchased French DVD’s and have been spending time with locals who insist on speaking French to me… the later method, I think is having the greatest influence. My favourite line from my translating so far you ask? “Je crois que je peux faire tout ce qui est incroyable.” (I believe that I can do anything that is incredible. – Mr. Incredible).<br />
<br />
<b>People: </b>Quite often I’ll pass by an older woman who appears to have skin that is remarkably young looking. This is not vampirism but rather, I suspect, the myriad skin care products offered on every other block on Paris. The products often feature a nude woman checking out her perfectly smooth buttocks in a mirror. It’s not photoshop (it probably is), it’s Product X. You see posters like the one below nearly everywhere.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt10ZRoYsREaHJhi4J02HFCAPe07zmUttF6PPuUatSmga9iLBFBcn359H7SMC_3lHJcn12Ez9LSWWdEDrXk8WCyRTp82s9k8rcX743RfVG1eGn2zvZN7PtODn7GkYtVSiRW3g5bPgHwUE/s1600/IMG_0433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt10ZRoYsREaHJhi4J02HFCAPe07zmUttF6PPuUatSmga9iLBFBcn359H7SMC_3lHJcn12Ez9LSWWdEDrXk8WCyRTp82s9k8rcX743RfVG1eGn2zvZN7PtODn7GkYtVSiRW3g5bPgHwUE/s400/IMG_0433.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nude bums in the city. These signs indicate the sale<br />
of skin creams for the forever young.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Culture: </b>In Greek mythology, there are nine goddesses who inspire artistic creativity; by any reckoning this is a lot of help! I’m now convinced that these muses are real and they all live in Paris. Every time I turn around I am inspired to creativity, whether it is writing, painting, poetry, and lately I have been thinking about making a film. The urge to create here is ubiquitous. Those taken by the cinematic muses can be seen everywhere in the spring at various locations throughout Paris, which make common backdrops for new films that are being made here daily.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi_1a2STlD3jZNemud0aeFz_oitjpTRvXe5yt0eTmzXV_FTQ9-kfE9FfoPF82D6vYximqzHpj1xOUkD3Ltv_U2wf75fTCo3VHTmZi2-ktWkhWX9UGP0BzvLcnFY2JzI4pxyrGpdBW-38/s1600/IMG_0442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi_1a2STlD3jZNemud0aeFz_oitjpTRvXe5yt0eTmzXV_FTQ9-kfE9FfoPF82D6vYximqzHpj1xOUkD3Ltv_U2wf75fTCo3VHTmZi2-ktWkhWX9UGP0BzvLcnFY2JzI4pxyrGpdBW-38/s400/IMG_0442.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A restaurant scene being filmed on the Seine not more<br />
than one block from my apartment. Action!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Transportation: </b>The metro will get you from one place in the city to the other in minutes. I find myself leaving for appointments ridiculously close to the time I’m due. If you take the Metro a lot you can get a Metro pass called a Navigo card. It gives you unlimited Metro rides for a week, month or year. Unlike say, London’s Oyster card (where do they come up with these names?), you can’t just put a sum of money on it and use it occasionally. Why not? This is Paris, silly!<br />
<br />
<b>Culture: </b>Something astonishing has happened to me twice now. I’ve asked for things to be mailed to me on one day and received them in the mail on the next day. The post office here is very brisk. In Canada, I would assume that someone was stalking me or playing a joke, if my mail were to arrive in the same week that it was sent.<br />
<br />
<b>Shopping: </b>In various spots along both sides of the Seine, you can find booksellers with various used books and magazines. Some of these sellers have various vintage items that you might even be lucky to find on eBay such as old magazines and newspapers of some historical significance. Should I ever have a bookshelf and/or a magazine stand, I think I shall begin to frequent these stands.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLx7IiuIaieYW0DuM2Z8Cyd_OCofPhN5A0Jh2DP77gcEWDjeIf6KFoerHTsm5jt4AQyFfan8tL6vu0X5zQ3EUOZMIPth2gInPLrlVx2tYR6cGVT2rlhWHPkR6nIrCmXaX7hoCLQ7548cc/s1600/IMG_0463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLx7IiuIaieYW0DuM2Z8Cyd_OCofPhN5A0Jh2DP77gcEWDjeIf6KFoerHTsm5jt4AQyFfan8tL6vu0X5zQ3EUOZMIPth2gInPLrlVx2tYR6cGVT2rlhWHPkR6nIrCmXaX7hoCLQ7548cc/s400/IMG_0463.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In addition to books, these vendors along the Seine sell<br />
vintage magazines, newspapers, posters, jewellery and<br />
a host of other interesting curios.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Paperwork: </b> I’ve created what I call my Kafka-pile. A stack of papers that I use as ID for such things as going to the bank, the OFII office, cell phone companies, rental agencies or anyone that requires identification of some sort. In Canada and the US, showing your driver’s licence gets you most places, and only in Kafka’s novels had I ever heard of anyone needing much more than that to establish their identify. Kafka must have had a great influence on French society.<br />
<br />
Well that is all for this entry my friends, thank you for looking in.<br />
<br />
Your humble servant,<br />
Sir Robyn<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b>P.S.</b> If you have a few extra mouse clicks for your humble friend and Parisian blogger… please leave a comment or “<b>follow</b>” my blog, or “<b>like</b>” it, or “<b>tweet</b>” it, or “<b>share</b>” it or whatever you young kids do on the Internets these days. Many thanks in advance.</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-30629155025619708682011-05-28T11:48:00.007+02:002011-05-30T09:07:31.370+02:00Carte de Sejour Day!!!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wMKDG25HNzL-fh5gIOvIhU7TUbUfGnWaycsGewCG9CZwJXSPjSxMwoIFnwtwtZhHMBrnLXrsybfO5zTfon86FDzXa446ptMT1cYbfbqCzuQY_rifWVt01jkmFhyphenhyphenStZdM04Wmgmk-jXc/s1600/Visa+and+Carte+de+Sejour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6wMKDG25HNzL-fh5gIOvIhU7TUbUfGnWaycsGewCG9CZwJXSPjSxMwoIFnwtwtZhHMBrnLXrsybfO5zTfon86FDzXa446ptMT1cYbfbqCzuQY_rifWVt01jkmFhyphenhyphenStZdM04Wmgmk-jXc/s400/Visa+and+Carte+de+Sejour.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My visa and Carte de Sejour live happily<br />
next to one another in my passport.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Salutations my most excellent friends!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">This week is EXTRA special in that I received my Carte de Sejour, which is effectively my residency permit. With this card (in the form of a sticker in my passport rather than a laminated card), I need not apply for more visas and can henceforth live in France so long as I have an address and some income. Oh the Kafkaesque stack of papers I’ve been carrying around may soon be a relic of my past.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 59.25pt;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The following is the list of steps it took to acquire this handy little addition to my passport. It was surprisingly simple when compared with the acquisition of a visa:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><ol><li>You have 2 months to acquire your Carte de Sejour after arriving in France. If you do not, then you will have to leave the country at the end of your visa and re-apply for another visa if you wish to stay past one year. Do NOT let these 2 months slip by. I let 6 weeks pass and in hindsight, should not have. I even retained a lawyer who advised me at 4 weeks to get the heck on top of this. Had there been a problem, I would have been doomed.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>At first, I tried calling the OFII office (immigration office) in Paris (<a href="http://www.ofii.fr/">http://www.ofii.fr/</a>) to set up an appointment. This was a dead end since there is an answering machine that rambles in French at an unintelligibly fast pace. Then I tried to email them, I felt good about myself for having been proactive. They did not answer the email.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Then I went to the OFII office in Bastille. I found it right away, since one of my favourite restaurants is very close. I had every paper I’ve ever collected with my name on it over the past year in a huge envelope. The reception desk was crowded with people of almost every nationality you can imagine. Alas, the receptionist only spoke a few words of English. They asked me if I understood French… in French. I said that I did not, but perhaps a little, because I understood the question.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>They took my passport, and this official looking piece of paper that I was given with my visa. The asked that I fill out my current address, phone number and other sundry information. After about 2-3 minutes, the explained that I’d receive something in the mail for my appointment. They didn’t ask for any papers. I was free to go. It was that easy.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>About 4-5 days later, I received about 5 pages of unintelligible instructions in French with the OFII office labelled all over the top. In the center, there was the office’s address, something about radiology, something else about 340 Euros and a date and time.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>On the date, which was 2 days after receiving the letter, I arrived at the office. Almost everything was conducted in French. I only had the papers they sent on hand, having left my Kafka-pile at home. They directed me to the doctor who asked me a few things in French, tested my eyes, blood pressure, and then sent me for an x-ray. The x-ray came back while I waited and another doctor explained that I had no infections in my lungs and that I should get a tetanus shot. Oh, I got to keep the chest x-ray!<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>When I was done with the doctor, I was directed to the reception desk where they had my Carte de Sejour sticker. The receptionist asked for papers and 340 Euros in “stamp” form. WTF? She said that I can get the stamps at the tobacconist across the street and that I’d need my Kafka pile of papers… or at least my water bill (if you've been following my blog, you know how important a water bill can be here).<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>On the same day, I fetched my Kafka-pile and before returning, went to the tobacconist and asked for 340 Euros in… and I didn’t know the French word for stamps… or even what kind of stamps that they were. I showed the cashier my letter. She nodded in understanding. Before I knew it I had a stack of stamps in convenient 15 euro and 55 Euro denominations totalling 340 Euros.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>I returned to the office, presented my Kafka pile, of which she only took my lease agreement (and kept it), licked the many stamps and stuck them to my application, and she stuck the Carte de Sejour in my passport.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Lastly, I went for a glass (several glasses) of champagne.</li>
</ol><br />
Thanks for looking in on my story. I hope that for a few of you, this will come in handy.<br />
<br />
Your Friend,<br />
Robyn<br />
<br />
<b>P.S.</b> If you have a few extra mouse clicks for your humble friend and Paris blogger… please “follow” my blog, or “<b>like</b>” it, or “<b>tweet</b>” it, or “<b>share</b>” it or whatever you young kids do on the Internets these days. Many thanks in advance.<br />
<br />
<b>P.P.S. For Clarification:</b> Once you have a Carte de Sejour you can stay in the country indefinitely. You must get it "renewed" each year before it expires by going to the local police station and letting them know your proof of address and I've heard, though not confirmed, your financials... basically... bring your Kafka-pile.<br />
<br />
Specifically for the Carte de Sejour, for the visitor's visa, I needed my proof of address, one passport picture, photocopies of my passport and visa, my passport and visa and that was it. I had all of my other papers handy, however, just in case.<br />
<br />
If you can survive the visa process, you will have many many papers. You will have no troubles with the Carte de Sejour, and unlike the visa process, you can go back again and again if you make a mistake.Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-87535812847177141372011-05-23T17:48:00.000+02:002011-05-23T17:48:46.674+02:00Settling into Paris in mid-May<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5SWxx_y40H2wx1dQ9TLyOdaLXGECOldpE75l4Uk89SaV3-48s5Ym_qi569RryidXoiZjSEX6hqVZVJ2cGQowM_ZfzLTzCg0N3r0Jy7ZiXtHdTtHEqCl2F1yxDY78aBdefTCEit3YIks/s1600/IMG_0430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5SWxx_y40H2wx1dQ9TLyOdaLXGECOldpE75l4Uk89SaV3-48s5Ym_qi569RryidXoiZjSEX6hqVZVJ2cGQowM_ZfzLTzCg0N3r0Jy7ZiXtHdTtHEqCl2F1yxDY78aBdefTCEit3YIks/s400/IMG_0430.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a statue at the Place de la République<br />
in Paris' 10th district, a district known to me<br />
as the place where the landlords won't ever<br />
ever return my calls.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Many greetings my excellent friends!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Congratulations on surviving the Rapture in America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry that so few people were raptured, but maybe the next one will be more spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here in Paris there was little talk of Rapture but rather of DSK, the IMF politician who was charged with rape in New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The French generally believe that he was set up for this charge, save a few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>The difference between those who think he was set up and those who don’t, seems to have more to do with how they feel about President Sarkozy than anything else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m still blythly unaware of how the politics work here, so I’ll just go ahead and assume he’s guilty until proven innocent… no wait, I’m not the mainstream media… OK I’ll assume he’s innocent until proven guilty.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Fashion</u></b>:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve found what I suppose I would call the “fashion district” of the city for regular people in the 11<sup>th</sup> district or the Bastille as it is better known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are rows upon rows of shops that specialize in perhaps only a few varieties of outfits, but have many each type in stock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike the haute couture places that I’ve mentioned in earlier blogs, the prices in these shops seem to have price points that a normal budget can manage.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Shopping</u></b>:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve often said that to know if you will like a place takes a few weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have to run out of your essentials like toothpaste and underarm deodorant and see if you can live with the local brands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far I’ve given up Crest for Signal toothpaste, which seems superior to my surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also paid 9 Euros for a crappy little stick of Old Spice underarm deodorant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>9 Euros to smell like a goddam vampire!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll have to find something better than this soon.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Vampires</u></b>:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vampires don’t seem to be anywhere this spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were lurking around everywhere when I first got here and now, they seem to be missing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t seen Malcovich either (coincidence?), though I did bump into George Clooney a few weeks back.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit7GKJaFb2WbCIT6m8YA4zkF_fKBY_RLUQco7w3-ahHFZfR_sie-wsd1zaJnAI9a4K2CMxoZr58YKORbt-o4rx5bzz9lb3hgB9t6q2uLeQCLGw0_-jCOw6oFd5iFoJK30EOiQnGprEscE/s1600/IMG_0432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit7GKJaFb2WbCIT6m8YA4zkF_fKBY_RLUQco7w3-ahHFZfR_sie-wsd1zaJnAI9a4K2CMxoZr58YKORbt-o4rx5bzz9lb3hgB9t6q2uLeQCLGw0_-jCOw6oFd5iFoJK30EOiQnGprEscE/s320/IMG_0432.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sci-fi uniforms! I want, I want!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Fashion</u></b>:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apart from ordinary fashions, I’ve spotted a couple of really cool uniform shops where a restaurant or hotel could go to outfit its staff in the latest kitchen and wait-staff fashions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the uniforms are so cool that I thought they might even be good outfits for a low budget science fiction movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hell, I might even make one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll keep you posted.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>City Life</u></b>: It wasn’t obvious, but I discovered the mystery of Paris’ clean streets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over the past few hundred years, it appears that the city engineers have sorted out the rise and run of nearly every street in the city and they have installed water spigots that aid in street cleaning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They simply turn on a spigot and then sweep the street debris into the stream that runs the length of the street where it all gets collected in the sewer (presumably for water treatment).</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Paperwork</u></b>: This was a banner week in that I applied for my Carte de Sejour, or residency card this week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To stay in Paris longer than one year, this card must be applied for within the first two months of residency. Armed with every paper known to man, I went to the office and applied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surprisingly, they only needed one paper, which I received from the Vancouver consulate along with my passport and visa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one spoke English at the OFII (immigration) office where I applied, but I understood enough of the French to know that I’d done all I needed and was soon on my way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was in and out of the office a total of two minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Culture</u></b>: If you are an old fashioned sort and still like to borrow books from a library, but your French is not quite to where you can read much more than a pamphlet without needing a rest…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I recommend the American Library in Paris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you don’t like books, the place is crawling with clever Anglophones and they have free Wi-Fi!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Check it out at <a href="http://www.americanlibraryinparis.org/">http://www.americanlibraryinparis.org/</a> .</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Movies</u></b>: A new movie came out last week in Paris called “Midnight in Paris”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure why, but the tickets for the film on Sunday night were 4 Euros each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may be the first time I’ve ever gone to a theatre and been astonished by how LOW the ticket price was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you see this movie anywhere in the world other than Paris however, it is going to cost you several thousand dollars and perhaps change your life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You simply won’t want to be anywhere else in the world other than Paris by the time the film has ended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though I saw the movie in Paris, I was thinking about how I wanted to get out of the theatre to be in the city.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/BYRWfS2s2v4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>City Life</u></b>: I didn’t see this so much in the fall, but spring has heralded the return of picnickers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On my dear little Isle Saint Louis, it is possible to go down a set of stone steps to the river bank and spread out a blanket next to the path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wine, cheese and bread are all that you need to enjoy the Seine from that moment on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve noticed that on the weekends, these picnics extend into the evening and turn into parties.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Architecture</u></b>: A few of the city’s landmarks such as the Orsay Museum and the Louvre are undergoing some exterior refurbishments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking to take advantage of the situation, large companies have paid for gigantic advertising murals to cover the ugly scaffoldings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether advertisements are uglier than scaffoldings is a matter for the eye of the beholder. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lD5lQvJ6gPKS5Q8QRvpEd3yz09i0ip1D9zSOIOsRDpbcoOt4bCiuGbzrBmKD8rGxSTSrQ-EygMXslU-feXJK4F9gA7IrNFoCvjmBXWKA_jNsfrI6ef3ZfRPIrqLnvcD3F1vbGvvDHKk/s1600/IMG_0415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lD5lQvJ6gPKS5Q8QRvpEd3yz09i0ip1D9zSOIOsRDpbcoOt4bCiuGbzrBmKD8rGxSTSrQ-EygMXslU-feXJK4F9gA7IrNFoCvjmBXWKA_jNsfrI6ef3ZfRPIrqLnvcD3F1vbGvvDHKk/s320/IMG_0415.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The husk of an old appliance in a<br />
rental apartment in Le Marais.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-weight: normal;"></span>City Life</u></b>: Apartment hunting in Paris should probably be a televised competitive sport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has heartache, anguish, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat; basically it has everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only thing is hasn’t yielded is a new apartment for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>French residents are generally required to have a guarantor or co-signer for any lease agreement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A foreigner sans-guarantor may be asked for several thousand Euros in a security deposit… if they are not entirely overlooked by the landlord in favour of a French applicant.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Language</u></b>: My French has improved, and yet I find myself speaking more and more English.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps it’s just that I am speaking more and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m having more conversations where my French friends speak French and I speak English and I really don’t care what the waiters or waitresses speak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>can have at it in Russian so long as I get my champagne.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><u>Work</u></b>:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have not sought after any new contracts in Paris, however I am inclined to think that I will wait a while before I consider it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have work from Canada and the US, but I’m finding that doing this work is a lot like taking a schoolboy to Disneyland… and forcing him to do his homework there.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Live long and prosper, my friends;</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Robyn</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-78915097440128652812011-05-08T21:28:00.000+02:002011-05-08T21:28:13.294+02:00Settling into the City<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosPF4Dpqa06YyFwRc5PD1bPSaPdGJc0RJs6URCh69DQzffLxEXhcfrRqRJdKfFG0qbCobCix2TwBzET7bNwoToFMx2OsqEcwGnIHpDEncjMO5SUkZkVRm_SqX7Cee-vPJxFFvB_2j3q8/s1600/IMG_1496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosPF4Dpqa06YyFwRc5PD1bPSaPdGJc0RJs6URCh69DQzffLxEXhcfrRqRJdKfFG0qbCobCix2TwBzET7bNwoToFMx2OsqEcwGnIHpDEncjMO5SUkZkVRm_SqX7Cee-vPJxFFvB_2j3q8/s400/IMG_1496.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahhh, Nespresso by the Seine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Bonjour and welcome my friends,<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The past two weeks have been as interesting as any others. As my time here in Paris rolls on, I am getting closer and closer to citizenship… using my loose definition of citizenship. I have a working bank card, a telephone contract, and other such things as one needs to function as a permanent resident of a place. I have a few pieces of paperwork to go, and the quest to complete those things will make up my next instalment. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">In the mean time, please enjoy this recent set of Parisian observations:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiVx7lpuUClECI5Vn9gL_Mg1VpsYJJHV2QbGt-y3R4wFtu5JI185xraGtJlVZ2AjZNdmj-Z86q7Qh4aQZ8IiitHhOfypa1RYF6sXi7ywzTEf0_khIPB5uRgKc6jpffdOiqcnYvd7d2NU/s1600/IMG_1495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><ol><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiVx7lpuUClECI5Vn9gL_Mg1VpsYJJHV2QbGt-y3R4wFtu5JI185xraGtJlVZ2AjZNdmj-Z86q7Qh4aQZ8IiitHhOfypa1RYF6sXi7ywzTEf0_khIPB5uRgKc6jpffdOiqcnYvd7d2NU/s1600/IMG_1495.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
</a>
<li>Paris has more than its share of great painters, particularly in the last couple of centuries. Now, I think that I understand why. Apart from the gajillion things to paint here, there is a sense that painting is as important a past time as cooking or exercising. There are certainly more painting supply stores than there are gyms in Paris. A recent sale at BHV (one of Paris’ leading department stores) features everything that a person needs to paint… save talent. I’m very tempted to take up a brush, just to see what happens.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Across the bridge (ou pont) from me is this very famous restaurant called the Tour d’Argent (<a href="http://www.latourdargent.com/">http://www.latourdargent.com/</a>), where I hope to dine one day soon. The restaurant was founded in 1582, and was frequented by Henri IV. It was also the inspiration for the restaurant “Gusteau's” featured in the movie “Ratatouille”, which is reason enough for a person to pay it a visit. Dinner and drinks will set diners back about 200+ Euros per person, so I don’t expect to be eating there every day; however this exceptional price has not discouraged me from giving it a try.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>As if to mock my crappy Canon party camera (which I thought was a pretty good camera *before* I got to Paris), I see a great many people on the streets with expensive Canon SLR cameras. They may in fact be the official camera of Paris. Canon owners all have Canon camera straps and often other Canon accessories and they always appear to be doing a photo essay on one subject or another. Until my budget frees up enough money for the best possible Canon of my own, jealousy dictates that I officially despise them.<br />
<br />
</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiVx7lpuUClECI5Vn9gL_Mg1VpsYJJHV2QbGt-y3R4wFtu5JI185xraGtJlVZ2AjZNdmj-Z86q7Qh4aQZ8IiitHhOfypa1RYF6sXi7ywzTEf0_khIPB5uRgKc6jpffdOiqcnYvd7d2NU/s1600/IMG_1495.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtiVx7lpuUClECI5Vn9gL_Mg1VpsYJJHV2QbGt-y3R4wFtu5JI185xraGtJlVZ2AjZNdmj-Z86q7Qh4aQZ8IiitHhOfypa1RYF6sXi7ywzTEf0_khIPB5uRgKc6jpffdOiqcnYvd7d2NU/s400/IMG_1495.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My trusty Kindle loaded with French classics.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><li>It is particularly enjoyable to read French literature while in Paris (except for maybe Proust), because you can actually go and see many of the places that the authors are writing about. I’ve been reading Camus, Balzac, Zola, de Maupassant, Flaubert and even Proust. My French friends tell me that they were forced to read these authors as kids, a time where I grew up on English and Canadian literature. Now that I am an adult, however, I find these authors to be quite enjoyable (except for Proust).<br />
</li>
<li>Paris is a big city and like any big city there are things here that you don’t want to see. Street people reduced to begging because of their addictions are unpleasant to encounter. They simultaneously confront us with a range of emotions from ambivalence to compassion to disgust and back again. Surely, when all you want to do is get some milk and a fresh baguette, you might not want to think about all of these things. <br />
Now I’m speaking only of addicts and not of the more dignified of Paris’ homeless, some of whom might very well be Canadians saving up for a security deposit on an apartment. The difference between Paris’ addict-class of homeless and the North American variety is that they still seem to have alcoholics here. The abundance of inexpensive and delicious wine must be more appealing to the Parisian addict than the meth or crack used by their North American counterparts.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Apartment hunting in Paris is like… nothing I have ever experienced. Paris does not have the strict tenant protections that most North American renters enjoy and landlords can change the rent they are asking or the security deposit at a whim, depending on what they think of you… personally… as a renter. This week’s search for a permanent apartment failed when at signing the landlord asked for an additional 2 months security deposit and that this be paid at signing. The deal ended since, for whatever reason, I didn’t have an additional 6,000 Euros in my pocket at the time.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>In the past two weeks I haven’t spotted a single vampire. Is there a convention somewhere? If anyone knows anything, please leave a comment. I’m concerned that there is something evil afoot.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>I don’t know if this is a true, but I have heard that the French use less soap per capita than any other industrialized nation. While I don’t believe that I’ve encountered more body odour here than anywhere else, I believe this may be a fact. Soap is expensive here! Gone are the Costco-sized quantities of body soap that used to fill the cupboard under my sink. Now I use each precious dollop of soap like it’s my last.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>I have finally managed to get to the Orsay museum (<a href="http://www.musee-orsay.fr/en/home.html">http://www.musee-orsay.fr/en/home.html</a> ). For something to be incredible is one thing, but for it to be incredible when it is within walking distance of the Louvre is quite another. Monet, Manet, Degas, Lautrec, Van Gogh, Seurat, Pissarro, Gauguin, and Renoir were all there, to name a few. But all in one day? It was really too much. In contrast with the Louvre, the Orsay tends to light its paintings more subtly, making close inspection more achievable. One can not only better enjoy a painting this way, but actually observe how it might have been painted (note observation #1).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgsSDFIA2nBl7dN_9df_dPjLfBRSwfr0ZbEbWM5y-OmitCWprvccdKb_qf5D-kPxhqCz3bz5WwerkwOj9AU9iFiouPninV9934R0GTPHGfI2KWAiGiGM8OlKXwFFrr02CdDWkILmu3cQ/s1600/IMG_0411.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgsSDFIA2nBl7dN_9df_dPjLfBRSwfr0ZbEbWM5y-OmitCWprvccdKb_qf5D-kPxhqCz3bz5WwerkwOj9AU9iFiouPninV9934R0GTPHGfI2KWAiGiGM8OlKXwFFrr02CdDWkILmu3cQ/s400/IMG_0411.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Musee d'Orsay as seen from the Louvre.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</li>
<li>I don’t know if this is a word, but I have been a victim of shirtrition. This is where one’s shirts simply give up the ghost and either the collar or the sleeve at the armpit unexpectedly tears and renders the garment into rags. The upside of shirtrition is that I’ve been buying replacement shirts in Paris, and oooooooh! There are vendors called chemiserie’s who sell nothing but shirts. They are the cure for shirtrition and some of these replacement shirts I’ve picked up are truly brilliant!</li>
</ol><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Thank you for reading, my most excellent friends and take care until next time!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Sincerely,</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Robyn</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
P.S. If you have a few extra mouse clicks for your humble friend and Paris blogger… please “follow” my blog, or “like” it, or “tweet” it, or “share” it or whatever you young kids do on the Internets these days. Many thanks in advance.<br />
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</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-17024732829984507362011-05-01T15:08:00.002+02:002011-05-01T15:15:20.406+02:00My First Month as a Citizen<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7a2oEFd3ml754vxpXLU7eMWarHG9wvHCQPmtiOKdtCiH9GxsooTIQOXPwm5Gq-TlmFiCas6VJ3s-ih8a6w7LV3OLIa8qjl8UPz3wRVoaRGmyW1TmfndbyyNeH3UIOTdayE3WYYeCjsmQ/s1600/IMG_1509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7a2oEFd3ml754vxpXLU7eMWarHG9wvHCQPmtiOKdtCiH9GxsooTIQOXPwm5Gq-TlmFiCas6VJ3s-ih8a6w7LV3OLIa8qjl8UPz3wRVoaRGmyW1TmfndbyyNeH3UIOTdayE3WYYeCjsmQ/s400/IMG_1509.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Huge queues await delicious Berthillion ice cream!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>My friends et mes amis!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">I have been in Paris a month now and I’m slowly but surely starting to become a citizen. Back in Aristotle’s day a citizen was defined as a person who was allowed to vote, but as an ex-pat I sort of rather think of a citizen as being anyone that contributes toward a place in a positive way. I think that since 20% of every dollar I spend here goes toward taxes… I believe that I’m well on my way toward citizenry. And now without further ado, my most recent observations of springtime in Paris.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><ol><li>I’ve come to discover that one’s water bill is the most compelling piece of identification that a person can possess. Despite the fact that a water bill is frightfully easy to forge, provided that one owns a “colour printer”, you will find them requested by banks, visa official, and cell phone companies alike. So far I’ve been honest in my dealings with most agencies and have explained that my water is included in my rent and offer a rental agreement instead. They shun these formal agreements, but may relent. In the future I may just bring in a fake water bill, if I am otherwise unable to pay the water company directly for such necessary identification. <br />
<br />
</li>
<li>I don’t have a foot fetish or really any kind of fetish that I know of but I find myself staring at women’s feet more and more often. I think that I might be developing a shoe fetish. In Canada and the US it is normal to see most women wearing running shoes more often than not. Here, the cornucopia of ballet slippers, pumps, stilettos, sandals, etc., combined with an endless assortment of nylons and stockings to accessorize… well it is far too much for my simple brain to inventory and I find myself staring, perhaps to find a spot in my brain to store these new and unexpected images.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/oeuqqqqS4C8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A video about Louboutin shoes that everyone should enjoy.</span></div><br />
</li>
<li>It is one thing to enter into a cell phone contract in a language that you understand fully. It is quite another to enter into such a contract with no idea whatsoever. While the French language is a mystery that is slowly unravelling for me, French contract language may be a sealed vault. After a tense negotiation, I managed to secure a new contract, however I have no idea about the details. I have a vision of burly men coming to take my belongings from me for some monstrous unpaid phone bill of epic proportions.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>I tend not to string my observations together, but since I do have a new phone, it will take time to get in contact with my many friends around the world and even the ones in Paris. I worry when the ones in Paris don’t call me back right away, for fear that perhaps they have been compromised by a vampire. Please, my Parisian friends. Don’t leave me to suffer with worry. Call me back right away!<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Vista print is this interesting service where one can print business cards or other various things with your company or personal information on them. They offer the service in many countries including France. Like so many websites, the French version is only offered in the French language. Now that I have a phone contract, I thought it might be time to get business cards. I managed to hobble through the selections on the website, design my card, choose my options and get to the checkout. From there I was presented with two pages of untranslatable French contract language. Damn! I will try again under the influence of champagne… since most things go better with champagne.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuyxnH-poT3ewI6d8LMahoIWswHOkZ_hfEzBDlKeknJrrwNbnFhEILSyQG5eW9Dl0aaIvgYgHOrkb9YCW0SJjrR3MVMaHEXTmroJvzMwY8M51ZdY-_zxwG8d77aUbsHT8PfS3pDZjjhrg/s1600/IMG_1500.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuyxnH-poT3ewI6d8LMahoIWswHOkZ_hfEzBDlKeknJrrwNbnFhEILSyQG5eW9Dl0aaIvgYgHOrkb9YCW0SJjrR3MVMaHEXTmroJvzMwY8M51ZdY-_zxwG8d77aUbsHT8PfS3pDZjjhrg/s400/IMG_1500.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OK I'm bound to figure out this French legalese eventually, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table></li>
<li>There are three sizes of champagne emergencies and as such there are three common sizes of champagne bottles. The ½ bottle or piche serves for single serving emergencies, the full bottle for regular emergencies and the magnum for more serious entertainment emergencies. A favourite brand here in Paris is Deutz (which I had never tasted in the US or Canada) and is now installed in my apartment for all three sizes of champagne emergency.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Yesterday for breakfast, I had Berthillion ice cream. Most of the flavours are quite sumptuous, however if you ever get a chance to try the white chocolate (chocolat blanc), then be prepared for a possible public orgasm. The line from “When Harry Met Sally” comes to mind… “I’ll have what she’s having.” Berthillion sells their ice cream in bulk at their main store and every flavour sounds good. For your voyeuristic pleasure I’ve attached a list: <a href="http://www.berthillon.fr/media/listeglace.pdf">http://www.berthillon.fr/media/listeglace.pdf<br />
</a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgct2bIqiXgG6i2PthZjekBlfYB5Pcs8UU0ev_F-nC3EaoiRn6_XAYEn2m9UpEPhs3XX9X4cIhDIQVWNux45oxZXJstvwchNiDwoRzxDnkc_TsxZfMIn7xfp7yXS6BgM_bUV24DSIUCASo/s1600/IMG_1508.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgct2bIqiXgG6i2PthZjekBlfYB5Pcs8UU0ev_F-nC3EaoiRn6_XAYEn2m9UpEPhs3XX9X4cIhDIQVWNux45oxZXJstvwchNiDwoRzxDnkc_TsxZfMIn7xfp7yXS6BgM_bUV24DSIUCASo/s400/IMG_1508.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh if only I didn't have to wait! I would go back every 20 minutes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</li>
<li>I returned to France heavier than when I left. I’m not normally obsessed about diet, but I am obsessed about wearing French fashions and anyone sporting a pot-belly can’t wear them properly. Since arriving in Paris I’ve lost weight on a diet consisting of foods baked in butter, cheese, pate, bread, and a lot more cheese. And meat. And cheese… with more cheese. And ice cream. And pastries. I nearly forgot about the pastries. At present, I have no theory about how this is possible.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Language continues to be my greatest barrier to entry in terms of becoming a citizen of Paris. I’ve purchased a number of children’s books to assist in my ongoing language training. While the “fog” of being immersed in a foreign language is lifting, one word or phrase at a time, I still feel quite mute. As a consummate storyteller, I certainly don’t like to be mute if I don’t have to.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2cVqe9ZIq2akbLDzrdUI0kUie1JMLAnHHCZDw0bz2jBgAeasxQ0keAxtwWnWegIK3cO7rGj1DXC2D9oSB33xXMQ8030Bp4b5vh50rTrInOID-QBjDFerAaS7JrBXScvvS4Hl51HRUs4/s1600/IMG_1505.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2cVqe9ZIq2akbLDzrdUI0kUie1JMLAnHHCZDw0bz2jBgAeasxQ0keAxtwWnWegIK3cO7rGj1DXC2D9oSB33xXMQ8030Bp4b5vh50rTrInOID-QBjDFerAaS7JrBXScvvS4Hl51HRUs4/s400/IMG_1505.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first of what may be 100 Roger Hargreaves books translated<br />
dutifully into French. I believe that the theme for each book is<br />
really contributing to my learning. History shall judge. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table></li>
<li>There are countless international groups in Paris that meet regularly, though generally over cocktails. The groups seem to be largely fuelled by their ability to fill a bar, restaurant or nightclub, but they do provide a rather interesting perspective of Paris. The Franca lingua here seems to be English. From what I’ve observed, a Chinese person speaking to an Italian, for example, will start with English and then switch to French if that fails. I’ve joined two expat groups including InterNations (.com) and A Small World (asmallworld.net). I’ve also attended gatherings with Meetup.com and ParisSoirees.com. Given enough time and the ability to drink more… I could attend 15 gatherings a week from these groups alone.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>On the Rue de Faubourg Saint-Antoine near the Bastille, there are several furniture stores of which a few I am certain will soon be in possession of most of my money. I’m sure it won’t be long before I find a permanent apartment and while I dream about that, I dream about the furniture it will possess. Perhaps it’s not a shoe fetish that I’ve developed, but rather a design fetish. Stay tuned for more furniture related entries in the near future.</li>
</ol><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/2KsgggC1Vaw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This video is from Ligne Roset, a favourite</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>furniture store of mine in the Bastile.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
Thank you all for reading and take care my friends.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Bisous!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Robyn</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">P.S. If you have a few extra mouse clicks for your humble friend and Paris blogger… please “follow” my blog, or “like” it, or “tweet” it, or “share” it or whatever you young kids do on the Internets these days. Many thanks in advance. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
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</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-52953593310208493992011-04-19T14:16:00.003+02:002011-04-20T07:57:57.179+02:00First Observations as a Resident<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_3eI8wNIHkpwb45iMin63qwJtWYDIYGgU-so6mVu1-rWO3rvHVBuTBicyqaFF48-MIRcwMai0Y9giuq5lpwiHAr45voZ5xusjRGjSedPvbZWyy_OhqVXeJGB4qrErFXutdpFsT5WgVw/s1600/IMG_0402.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_3eI8wNIHkpwb45iMin63qwJtWYDIYGgU-so6mVu1-rWO3rvHVBuTBicyqaFF48-MIRcwMai0Y9giuq5lpwiHAr45voZ5xusjRGjSedPvbZWyy_OhqVXeJGB4qrErFXutdpFsT5WgVw/s400/IMG_0402.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A crudely photographed sunset taken from the<br />
window of my Isle Saint-Louis apartment.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Bonjour my friends,</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">It has been a long and hard journey to return to Paris, but worth every sacrifice along the way. I'm back, baby! I’ve been repatriated to the city that I have come to love so much. I’ve completely emptied out my suitcases (for the first time in 2 years), filled the refrigerator with crème de camembert, pate and Chablis, and set out my French books for study. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Yes, my French is still quite terrible. Between learning more French and filling out loads more paperwork for banks, apartments, drivers licences and a host of other things, I will be very busy at becoming a full-time resident. In the mean time, my eyes have been wide open enjoying the sights that I’ve missed and making new observations from things that I continue to learn about this amazing city.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Please enjoy my fresh observations as a first time resident of Paris:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt17c4vzLV_HJwkQWdbb3fH2siAfZcCZaFs5BAMDd7pwG93HtgFJD_Kf6ieyFRnJ34FHUy6UHkWN65t7WJBseb7hGPB4QdonJwec2tzFITrcxgDxYi2qwliJ88KabNkcSF-rhKvFsZuaU/s1600/IMG_0385.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><ol><li>Everything in Paris is the same and different from when I left. New shops have sprung up where old ones have gone away. I struggle to remember what the old ones were. Unlike other cities I’ve seen lately, there are few spots that remain vacant for long.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>If there were such a thing as a national coffee machine, then in France it would be the Nespresso machine. In Paris the release of a new variety of Nespresso machine was heralded with the same pomp and ceremony as the unveiling of a national monument. Of course, I bought one. I’ve long been a fan of Nespresso and in Paris; there is a Nespresso store on the Champs Elysee … so I can take a short ride on the metro to fetch my capsules. Nom!<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>The island that I live on called Isle Saint-Louis has more ice cream parlours per capita than people. Traffic has to slow for cars to get around the people getting around the long queues for delicious flavoured ice cream.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>A generic indoor parking spot in Paris will sell for just under 50,000 Euros. If you’ve failed to impress someone with your car, you might get a second chance to amaze them by showing off your shiny new parking spot.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>A French bank account is needed for a great many things in Paris, particularly the acquisition of a cell phone contract that doesn’t amount to statutory rape (by Swedish definitions). When you first apply to get your shiny new bank account, banks will want to see your: a) passport, b) apartment lease, and c) letter from your previous Canadian or US bank (not all banks). With luck, these three things will get you a shiny chipped debit card that works all over the world, but especially well in Europe.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>I don’t know if it’s because I’m living on an island, but I haven’t seen any vampires since I left the Charles de Gaulle airport (where many vampires are permanently employed). It must be that they don’t like water, but I’m really going to have to look into this to be sure. Another possibility is that the proximity of Notre Dame Cathedral upsets them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVd1hZXjc6HtMN8qlwQ4TKNUa1IlejxlAYqXAyKFsQiBEFDq_PmkBIJnQDv2kYbNAd8CxrztKoug3lKi84_8jdrbEA7gGD-Y0zKRLSfKCaWpnDANy8L3xd1MfX4c_fQ8I1Ij71GgPnZ4c/s1600/IMG_0405.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVd1hZXjc6HtMN8qlwQ4TKNUa1IlejxlAYqXAyKFsQiBEFDq_PmkBIJnQDv2kYbNAd8CxrztKoug3lKi84_8jdrbEA7gGD-Y0zKRLSfKCaWpnDANy8L3xd1MfX4c_fQ8I1Ij71GgPnZ4c/s400/IMG_0405.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dinner-cruise boat sails past my apartment,<br />
set squarely between me and watching vampires.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</li>
<li>My sister came to visit with her baby, my neice Baby Cait… and I learned a lot about what it might be like to be wheelchair bound in Paris. In a word… ‘suckful’. Paris is just not very baby-stroller friendly. Firstly, the average Parisian apartment has several flights of horribly windy stairs and secondly, so does almost every Parisian attraction. To mention a few, the Arc de Triomphe is a stairs only ordeal (nearly 300 steps up, and nearly 300 steps down). So is Notre Dame. Versailles will not permit strollers in the castle, but will permit almost anything on wheels in the gardens. The Eiffel Tower is tricky, but possible; the smaller the stroller/wheelchair the better your experience will be.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>The farmers’ market in the Bastille area is amazing. It operates during the day on Wednesdays and Sundays if I translated correctly and features not only veggies, but fish, meat, and various other arts, crafts and even pots and pans. Most vegetables seem to go for about one Euro per kilo and the quality is outstanding. Oh, I wish I knew how to cook!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt17c4vzLV_HJwkQWdbb3fH2siAfZcCZaFs5BAMDd7pwG93HtgFJD_Kf6ieyFRnJ34FHUy6UHkWN65t7WJBseb7hGPB4QdonJwec2tzFITrcxgDxYi2qwliJ88KabNkcSF-rhKvFsZuaU/s1600/IMG_0385.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt17c4vzLV_HJwkQWdbb3fH2siAfZcCZaFs5BAMDd7pwG93HtgFJD_Kf6ieyFRnJ34FHUy6UHkWN65t7WJBseb7hGPB4QdonJwec2tzFITrcxgDxYi2qwliJ88KabNkcSF-rhKvFsZuaU/s400/IMG_0385.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many stands at the farmers market in Bastille.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></li>
<li>I imagine that every place in the world has its residents that boast about their sunsets. I was not expecting this, but I’ve seen some spectacular ones in Paris. Somehow it doesn’t seem fair that a city that already has so much can also have such beautiful sunsets.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>For reasons I can’t exactly explain, renting an unfurnished apartment looks like it will be more difficult than renting a furnished apartment. The law permits agencies to demand a guarantor (someone to pay the rent) for an unfurnished apartment. I hope this law doesn’t cramp my grand designs.</li>
</ol><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Well as you can see, I'm glad to be back. Many thanks for my Parisian friends who have helped and welcomed me home and warmest wishes to those I miss so dearly around the world.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Your most grateful of friends,</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Robyn</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">P.S. If you have a few extra mouse clicks for your humble friend and now travel blogger… please “follow” my blog, or “like” it, or “tweet” it, or “share” it or whatever you young kids do on the Internets these days. Many thanks in advance. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-74615193470404100362011-04-11T02:22:00.002+02:002011-04-11T02:24:30.073+02:00How to Live in Paris - Part 2<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkIfiZ6K19e7CJP3l38qA86aavYl3TKhXW9lGOoQqWVilk5_skOWfhV3eWi7yy-yP_F3ndr9Bp03RAZ8maxSUZ8b58cBL9JL-qAX-ywPyUFjmXbSNZFraHUJLPTOlgwsJAdHsWBUTuJk/s1600/IMG_0346+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkIfiZ6K19e7CJP3l38qA86aavYl3TKhXW9lGOoQqWVilk5_skOWfhV3eWi7yy-yP_F3ndr9Bp03RAZ8maxSUZ8b58cBL9JL-qAX-ywPyUFjmXbSNZFraHUJLPTOlgwsJAdHsWBUTuJk/s400/IMG_0346+-+Copy.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A snow covered wing prevents the plane from leaving the<br />
Toronto Airport. The last obstacle between me and Paris.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Bonjour mes Amis!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To establish myself in Paris, I decided that the proper path was the Long Stay Visa entitled the “Visitors / Staying in France without working nor studying” version. As I mentioned before, the list of paperwork required is lengthy, requiring up to separate bits of paperwork (I’ve posted a link to the list here: <a href="http://www.consulfrance-vancouver.org/spip.php?article409">http://www.consulfrance-vancouver.org/spip.php?article409</a> ).</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Please note that this list is different than the list for French consulates on American soil, or other kinds of soil. You must have the list that is specific to the consulate in which you are applying. If you use the wrong list, your visa appointment will be very, very brief and unsuccessful (as my first appointment was).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now for the paperwork; if you’ve clicked the link above you have seen the list of 14 things. Here are my observations about this list:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><ol><li>You will need RCMP Police clearance or a Number [8]. This is probably the hardest bit of paperwork to get back in a hurry and should be the first thing you apply for. I was “lucky” to be in Saskatchewan at the time and submitted my information, which included electronically read fingerprints for a fee of $75. This slightly higher fee got my clearance note back in 10 days. If you submit your paperwork with the old fashioned inky fingerprints you can wait as long as 3-4 months to get your clearance back. Note: If you have a blemish on your criminal record, you will need a pardon. If this is the case, Google Canadian pardons and then find a lawyer to help. I have no idea how hard it is to get a pardon or how long it takes, but I’m sure that without one, your dream to live in Paris will end right here at point #1.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li> The last bit of paperwork may be very difficult (Number [14]). If you have kids that you want to bring along on your adventure, you must find schools for them. You’ll have to Google this on your own, since I have no idea how easy/hard this might be. If you find a school online and manage to place your child, simply ask them to scan and send you a set of .PDF’s for your child’s enrollment information.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Number [7] and [4] kind of go together, since you may be going to the same source for both depending on your situation. You basically have to prove that you can live in Paris (France) and not starve or be forced to sell water and/or umbrellas at the Louvre. This may mean a letter from your Canadian employer or client explaining that they have plenty of work for you. This may mean that you can show a bank balance of at least $25K (this is a guess) or more per person. You may have a trust fund or a retirement pension or some other form of income that generates at least $1800 per person and will continue to do so for the one year period of the visa. You will also have to provide bank statements, income tax receipts, etc. to show that you actually did get the money promised by the employer, client, or other source of income.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Numbers [12] and [13] are for health insurance and civil liability insurance, respectively. You may have insurance up the wazoo, but they <b>French government may not recognize your insurance</b> company. This is always a bit of a gamble. To be sure, you can insure yourself with these guys: <a href="http://www.france-insurance.com/index.php">http://www.france-insurance.com/index.php</a> They got me insured and sent me a set of .PDF’s that I needed for my application very promptly.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Your living conditions are the concern of [10] and [11], which is renting vs. staying with a friend, respectively. The best plan is to go for [11]. Ask a friend to let you stay with them until you find a permanent apartment (which is nearly impossible to get before you get here). Make sure you get the friend’s ID cards, lease or proof of home ownership, and an electric bill or whatever proves that they have the ability to host you. They must also sign a letter that makes the offer.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li> If you have no friends, I recommend you sign a 3 month lease (at least 3 months) with a short term vacation rental place. I’ve personally used these guys: <a href="http://www.nyhabitat.com/paris-apartment.html">http://www.nyhabitat.com/paris-apartment.html</a>, but there are many, many others.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>You need 3 recent and identical photographs, formatted 35mm X 45mm. This is an inconvenient format and an inconvenient number to need since most passport photos come in pairs. Make sure that you get this right. They provide a PDF with the correct sizes for the photo and your head inside the photo… get it wrong and you’ll be scrambling around for new photos in a hurry.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>The rest of the paperwork can be filled out in a day including the OFII form, your application form [2], your letter of oath saying you won’t work [5], and your "Attestation sur l’honneur" [6].<br />
<br />
</li>
<li>Make sure you photocopy any original documents including your passport [1] and submit only photocopies as you may need this paperwork at a later date.<br />
</li>
<li>Once you’ve got your paperwork together you are ready to apply. You do this by setting an appointment here on the website of your consulate. Don’t forget to print the receipt of the appointment or you won’t be granted an appointment.<br />
<br />
</li>
<li><b>IMPORTANT</b>: Lastly, the thing that nearly killed my visa application was proof that I lived in British Columbia. I had a lease, but no electric bills or anything since the utilities were included in the lease. They can, if they wish be sticklers about this, so make sure your lease/ownership papers/bills (all with the same address) are included in your package at the end somewhere. It could make the difference between getting a visa, and not. </li>
</ol><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHzhAVkgF1jLaiJrVn2856kkAW5igbCGvqMUUG3oqc5rRxTQrbFWkNn5lnHNDBQtG-K3VyPP6djsxY_RPTD23sjt2N-peDbjgB5sGHlcOpNpwPEj2AJBibWc4Rk8Psvp24qO-m5NgyBc/s1600/IMG_0361+-+Copy.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHzhAVkgF1jLaiJrVn2856kkAW5igbCGvqMUUG3oqc5rRxTQrbFWkNn5lnHNDBQtG-K3VyPP6djsxY_RPTD23sjt2N-peDbjgB5sGHlcOpNpwPEj2AJBibWc4Rk8Psvp24qO-m5NgyBc/s320/IMG_0361+-+Copy.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first long sunny day with Poseidon at Versailles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
You should be able to book your travel for 2-3 weeks from when you have set your visa appointment. The rest is all nervous waiting. <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Good luck!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Your friend and newest addition to Paris,</div><div class="MsoNormal">Robyn</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-45261348071074225022011-04-11T01:03:00.003+02:002011-04-11T01:10:42.599+02:00How to Live in Paris - Part 1<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3Jajh9SLasIGD2FYZHQ_Xjorq9NoF08oZOiRu_OpVKfROm2BTNatjZKP0LCZcjvgZSsITGTPXWQS_7MlEMhP0T8EqWOPbJBag9zp8ZCpGvtskvQMuDALbfiCgLnLP_Tzxj2bxvXGL84/s1600/IMG_0340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3Jajh9SLasIGD2FYZHQ_Xjorq9NoF08oZOiRu_OpVKfROm2BTNatjZKP0LCZcjvgZSsITGTPXWQS_7MlEMhP0T8EqWOPbJBag9zp8ZCpGvtskvQMuDALbfiCgLnLP_Tzxj2bxvXGL84/s400/IMG_0340.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please get me out of this snow!!! I want to go to Paris!<br />
My poor old car awaits word about my visa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Friends!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If you’re like me or maybe even if you are not, then you probably want to live in Paris. After my first 90 days I made the decision that I wanted to spend a lot more time in Paris and I made a list of the practical ways that I could do this. As the age old proverb states, “Where there is a will, there is a way.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As a Canadian, I am allowed to stay in any of the Schengen countries (a list of the countries is here <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schengen_Area">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schengen_Area</a>) in Europe for 90 days out of every 180 day period. For those unwilling to do the math, this is roughly 6 months of the year with considerable breaks, e.g. three months on, three months off, every other month, every other fortnight, every other week. For me, this period seemed inadequate, particularly considering that my Parisian fantasy was to acquire an unfurnished apartment and fill it with furniture of my very own.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To accomplish my dream I would need a visa that would allow me to stay at least a year without interruption. The French Consulate in Vancouver provides a list of the possible types of Long Stay Visas available to citizens of Canada wishing to apply (<a href="http://www.consulfrance-vancouver.org/spip.php?rubrique111">http://www.consulfrance-vancouver.org/spip.php?rubrique111</a>). There are similar websites in the United States. Be sure that you look up the website for the area for which you. A Torontonian can’t apply in Vancouver and a Vancouverite can not apply in Toronto, so the Francophile must first choose the correct embassy.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3IZnl9ihHdcu_KfnwE44EcPhI8L5qejLYLPNiqQ5FRqrodLvhlQhJG9atCsllbP6N0rrIsyOcAHIoLuIhdOH0DJhHwoO65mW2XtFSf8O36IP7aAJwIEccN1kJd0vwtuFE4eQg8bCtGcw/s1600/IMG_0350.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3IZnl9ihHdcu_KfnwE44EcPhI8L5qejLYLPNiqQ5FRqrodLvhlQhJG9atCsllbP6N0rrIsyOcAHIoLuIhdOH0DJhHwoO65mW2XtFSf8O36IP7aAJwIEccN1kJd0vwtuFE4eQg8bCtGcw/s320/IMG_0350.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first meal in Paris. Lamb, potatoes and some kind of <br />
yummy sauce that was just really really good.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
I decided that I would not seek employment in France. I love a challenge, but my high-school French would likely outweigh all of my job-hunting skills and also, I hope never to get a job ever again, even if it means a visa for France. I also ruled out school. When I parted with academia, I was quite certain that I’d never return. Religious training? No. Artist? No. NGO volunteer? No. The only thing left for me was the visa for “Staying in France without working or studying.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My chosen visa would require that I prove three basic things to the French government, 1) that I had enough money to stay in France for a year, 2) that I would not be a liability to the state and 3) that I was able to follow instructions on a visa form. The list of paperwork required is lengthy and the three basic things end up being 14 separate bits of paperwork (the list is here: <a href="http://www.consulfrance-vancouver.org/spip.php?article409">http://www.consulfrance-vancouver.org/spip.php?article409</a> Please note that this list is different than the list for French consulates on American soil… seek the list you need!).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The Consulate will point out that it will take 2-3 weeks from when you have your visa appointment until you will have your passport returned with the visa physically stamped inside it. 2-3 weeks is nothing! This paperwork will take 3 or 4 months to complete! Plan to be scrambling around gathering papers for at least 3-4 months before telling your friends and family that you’ll be in Paris.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3IZnl9ihHdcu_KfnwE44EcPhI8L5qejLYLPNiqQ5FRqrodLvhlQhJG9atCsllbP6N0rrIsyOcAHIoLuIhdOH0DJhHwoO65mW2XtFSf8O36IP7aAJwIEccN1kJd0vwtuFE4eQg8bCtGcw/s1600/IMG_0350.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Stay tuned for Part 2! I’ll tell you how to get the papers together that you’ll need for your visa. I may even do another step to talk about shipping a car... which appears that it will be almost as difficult as shipping myself.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Your friend,</div><div class="MsoNormal">Robyn</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Chevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574350475123915039.post-67968386297365240812011-02-01T04:27:00.000+01:002011-02-01T04:27:38.135+01:00Exile: Working On My Visa<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwKp-wjTueRLNlZiuY-qBv3x4DgemGh9XWkeWiLFrYSUEQT0wytOkPY4ImoynmVLagMkD32UTMsMKQwe9bg7y6RmiHbph3DctzNm8SvCtQsDGW25-i1qGTPsKi4W-ZgQQv1jGp1pSRNw/s1600/IMG_0270%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijwKp-wjTueRLNlZiuY-qBv3x4DgemGh9XWkeWiLFrYSUEQT0wytOkPY4ImoynmVLagMkD32UTMsMKQwe9bg7y6RmiHbph3DctzNm8SvCtQsDGW25-i1qGTPsKi4W-ZgQQv1jGp1pSRNw/s320/IMG_0270%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some magic castle or something.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Exile: Too many weeks</b><br />
Aloha from the island of Oahu!<br />
<br />
My friends, it has been too long since I’ve last written about my adventures. Honestly, this site could have been a travel blog in which I tell you about my adventures from wherever they may be, but my heart is in Paris. Since leaving there, I’ve been in Toronto, New York, Orlando, Saskatoon, and I’m currently in Honolulu. <br />
<br />
I will be applying for a “Long Stay Visitor” visa rather than a work visa, since I can work from my computer. I’ll make the application in Vancouver in two weeks and will then make my move to Paris two weeks after that. If all goes well, I expect to be in Paris for quite a long time, since I can renew my visitor visa indefinitely (so long as I meet the requirements). What are the requirements?<br />
<br />
1. One must have proof of income. You need either a bank statement, pay stubs or some proof that you will not starve to death during your stay.<br />
<br />
2. One must have health insurance. For some reason, the French government does not want to pay for the health care of a non-citizen.<br />
<br />
3. One must have a place to live. This can be a lease or a letter from a friend or family member who will put you up. I can tell you that renting a permanent apartment in Paris from abroad is nearly as difficult as getting a visa. I have decided to find an apartment after I arrive (hopefully in Le Marais… hopefully with 2 bedrooms and a parking spot!)<br />
<br />
4. Last, one must write a heart-felt letter of why you want to be in Paris at all, perhaps with promises that you will not violate the spirit of your visa by taking a job.<br />
<br />
I expect to be successful with my petition, but this as with all things, time will tell.<br />
<br />
Here are some random observations that I have made during my exile.<br />
<br />
<b>Orlando:</b><br />
1. I never saw the city of Orlando and cannot verify if there even is one. Disney related shuttles and taxis took me from the airport to the resort to the park and back. I only ever saw highways and Disney related venues. If the city of Orlando is giving Disney any tax breaks, they should stop.<br />
<br />
2. I complained a lot about being the fattest man in all of Paris. I would say that I was rather the skinniest man in Orlando. Disney rewards fat morbid obesity by letting super-fat people jump the lines in their electric scooters. Just seeing these horribly disfigured fatties is enough to put one off food forever.<br />
<br />
<b>Saskatoon:</b><br />
1. Saskatoon got back to normal the day I arrived by heralding me with 30cm (about a foot) of snow. Temperatures dipped below -30C and with the wind-chill factor calculated in they got into the -45C range.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftBUTKNUyjIw7W_IRhHGl98q24Fq28bM-sVbd6NDo2nlJzQoJyUw1Irk76esOIFrZbrZZmqlmxHGJX2FzJYKOyNoM86sORE9_dtCJbpmacV1OE_dS7t_hK9e-2ufU8ZIhlsnxyv8MI9k/s1600/IMG_9428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftBUTKNUyjIw7W_IRhHGl98q24Fq28bM-sVbd6NDo2nlJzQoJyUw1Irk76esOIFrZbrZZmqlmxHGJX2FzJYKOyNoM86sORE9_dtCJbpmacV1OE_dS7t_hK9e-2ufU8ZIhlsnxyv8MI9k/s400/IMG_9428.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My very unhappy car waits for news about Paris.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
2. There is a Dairy Queen on 8th Street in Saskatoon that stays open well into the winter. It was still open in December. Some Dairy Queen locations sell hamburgers and fries and such, but not this one. It only sells ice cream and patrons must line up outside in the -30C weather to wait for their ice cream. Only in Canada, eh?<br />
<br />
3. Ladies, pay attention. For those of you from Victoria or Honolulu or some town where you are convinced that the number of single women greatly outnumber the single men, you will not find this to be the case in Saskatoon. Honesely, get to Saskatoon as soon as you can and have a look. You’ll be surrounded by a throng of Saskatonian men before you can say Rumplestiltskin. <br />
<br />
<b>Honolulu:</b><br />
1. I suppose I brought the cold weather with me, but Honolulu has been uncharacteristically cold this December. I’ve been computing with a little blanket on many days. For those of you that don’t know this, there is no way to warm up in a Honolulu household, since the homes don’t have heaters or furnaces of any sort.<br />
<br />
2. During my short time here, I have enjoyed what I call the “celebrity of absence” in that I have been invited to a great many outings, having not been seen by anyone for several months. This has all but worn off now, so I will have one large party to say goodbye and will depart soon, hopefully to return one day to the same celebrity. Thank you, my friends!<br />
<br />
3. I’ve found a source for crème de Camembert here. Life is not so bad. Of course it is impossible to get good bread. Bread in America is sold underbaked or unbaked and like most Americans I had become accustomed to eating raw bread dough with a brownish crust. Paris cured me of this habit, but there is nowhere in Hawaii to buy bread that is fully baked. A toaster is required.<br />
<br />
4. I drink more wine in Honolulu than anywhere else in the world. I expect that this is because I am blessed with so many friends here.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvQ4GqAdaDh7Lci2634bhKiAodhUAzHNn_CeJbq3By1NB19Al3QRVTkxkSvpVcXazOlw8psp-hTNWYuTv0lnKDinx_z1APOz5nAu9TxaO5WbMxf7ebBEK1_C96rJTIQQD2iAuT3SEH8s/s1600/sharing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvQ4GqAdaDh7Lci2634bhKiAodhUAzHNn_CeJbq3By1NB19Al3QRVTkxkSvpVcXazOlw8psp-hTNWYuTv0lnKDinx_z1APOz5nAu9TxaO5WbMxf7ebBEK1_C96rJTIQQD2iAuT3SEH8s/s400/sharing.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharing photos, stories and laughs with friends in Honolulu.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I suppose that is all I shall write for now. For everyone I haven’t seen yet in Hawaii, I hope to see you very soon and to all my friends in Paris… I shall be returning shortly.<br />
<br />
Love and Aloha,<br />
RobynChevalier Robynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11583224536893333637noreply@blogger.com0