I went to Paris last weekend, because I could, and to visit a friend from Conakry who lives there now. We had a lovely time shopping at Christmas markets, going to museums for free, browsing used books, devouring delicious snails (well, one of us did), drinking the richest, thickest hot chocolate ever, and just walking around appreciating the city. I forget sometimes how beautiful some other cities are because I live in practical, workaday Dublin, with its flat mud-colored Georgian rowhouses, squat ’70s office blocks, and streets and streets of identical duplexes. Dublin certainly has its charms, but oh, Paris!
I also confirmed that my French is total shite after two years of disuse, so after Christmas I’ll have to trot my derrière down the the Alliance Française and start whipping it back into shape. My French, that is, not my derrière, though after the coming Christmas delights (and the HUGE box of chocolates I bought this weekend) that may need some improvement as well.