The Café Society - Part 2 - The Great Leap Forward

After nearly nine years in Gentilly, it was time for a change. Gentilly had been, at the time we moved there, quite a step up from our warehouse in the infamous "9-3." Here, we finally had real offices, with an elevator, a real phone exchange and ready access to the RER 'B' line. Within one week of moving in, we had enjoyed two burglaries.

With the installation of armoured doors, entry badges, and an alarm system, we did eventually get the burglary average down to one per year, but nothing we did was going to improve the local catering, nor would it make the juvenile delinquents hanging out at the tube station any less delinquent.

So, after a six month search, and two lease extensions, we decided to move to the heart of Paris, rue Pierre Lescot, in the First District. With the exodus to the suburbs, rents are now barely more than in Gentilly, there's the Movable Feast at the door, and the assorted Goths, Fashion Victims and Web Geeks wandering around downstairs don't look too threatening.



Added bonus, our Gentilly furniture looks better on hardwood.

La Hacquinière - Part 10 - Fun with the White Pages

Ever since the French White Pages went online (or, to be exact, on the internet, since they've been online on Minitel teletext for over two decades) they've enhanced their Paris directory listings with pictures of buildings. This has proven to be very useful when venturing to an unknown location, for instance when a Real Estate Agent has omitted to mention the sexshop on the ground floor.

In the interest of Universal Access, the White Pages now feature aerial pictures of all of France - presumably it would have been prohibitively expensive to take terrestrial photos of every building in the country, though it would have made for an interesting twist on the Domesday Book. However, the White Pages being French, they have not used the same bank as Google Earth, with mixed results.

In the picture above, La Hacquinière (longitude and lattitude hidden to preserve from Cruise Missile attacks) is correctly situated by the red circle, but the summer leaves make it difficult to see much on the ground. Score One for Google.
In the photo below, of my parents' Brittany home, the picture is much sharper than Google Earth's. Unfortunately, the red circle is nearly 200 yards too far north, and has my parents enjoying holidays at the Antony Colonie de Vacances.

And they say the Soviets published incorrect maps.

40th Anniversary of the start of the Cultural Revolution

More evidence that the bad guys often choose the coolest words.

Hotel Rooms - Part 8- Great Expectations

Descriptions of Hobart Hall Hotel, in Richmond, Surrey, range from a charitable “quaint” to a more brutally honest “grotty.” I stay there occasionally, in part because it’s convenient, in part because it’s cheap, and in part because of the place’s eccentricity. I have never seen hotel management, though the two students who take turns manning reception (presumably in return for room and board) are pleasant enough. The hotel is classified as “Three Star” though certainly not on the basis of the general upkeep (leaky roof, worn furniture, dodgy television…) I feel genuine sympathy for those who book looking for Olde Worlde Charme.

What I do like about Hobart Hall is its sense of grandiose anachronism or even decay; old copies of Horse & Hound or The Telegraph litter the smoking room. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the hotel is on the banks of the Thames, nor do I object to the unadvertised free WiFi (unfortunately with all useful SMTP ports blocked.) Pete Townsend, Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall all live literally around the corner, in three separate houses.


On my most recent visit this week I was ‘upgraded’ to the Honeymoon Suite, complete with four-poster bed and enormous bathtub (not to mention the noisy space heater and the leaky toilet.)

Miss Havisham would have felt at home.

La Hacquinière - Part 9 - Comet Watching

The Schwassmann-Wachman comet (or what's left of it, as it's fragmented into 40 pieces) was due within sight this weekend so the Kids made the trek from the city to observe, free of ambient light. There's rarely any ambient light here at night, but the comet was nowhere to be seen, as it's been raining all weekend.
Still, between card games and pyrotechnics, a splendid time was had by all. They're still sleeping.

Celia - Part 4

Celia, age 8 months and a few more days, admiring the red Alfa about to carry away her favourite baby-sitter, Sandrine, from Chemin des Passiflores.

Celia - Part 3

Celia, age 8 months and a few days, shortly before her bedtime yesterday. We made the mistake of arriving with Sandrine just before Celia was taken to bed by her mother. Celia, ever-sociable, was delighted to see us and, from the confines of her cot, expressed her pleasure for the next half hour.

My helpful suggestion to calm her by shutting off the babyphone went unheeded.

La Hacquinière - Part 8 - Card Sharks & Axe Girl

On Sunday, the living room was temporarily transformed into a den of card sharks as Max, Robin & Sandrine shuffled the decks. The boys will return next Saturday, with telescope (assuming Max dares fetch it from TonTon Moustache,) to hail the passing comet.

There are, they concede, advantages to living outside Paris.

The teen guitar heroine decided that she could deign to play on a Telecaster (she's a diehard Strat Girl) and demonstrated the quietest technique through a 50 Watt Valve Marshall. She also displayed great persuasiveness, as I am now committed to joining her for a parachute jump.

Fortunately, Emma won't be parachute-legal for another five years.

La Hacquinière - Part 7 - We have a New Maid...

NOT!

Sandrine, fed up with her hostel (a French version of the YWCA, but with somewhat deceptive advertising,) moved to La Hacquinière this Saturday. It is remarkable how much clothing and paraphanelia a university student can accumulate, as it took 5 hours for SylVie and Sandrine to pack everything and maneuvre it into a Fiat Panda, which was packed to the gills.

Since Saturday, the washing machine has been working overtime, preparing two months worth of ironing for Sandrine to do.

I'll have to find someone else to do my shirts.