Thursday, August 11, 2005
An attractive bakery on the rue de la Croix Nivert, across from Banani, a good Indian resto. This bakery stayed open until almost 9PM!
flowers in the
Palm tree by
the lake in the
Fountain in the
The day before
yesterday, we met a Romanian house painter in a park. He was a sweet guy, but quite drunk. He spoke 5 or 6 different languages, all
badly. He swore that he loves
vacation, George Bush, the man who once said the French don’t have a word for
“entrepreneur,” is making the newspapers here because of the way he is going
about his vacation, ignoring Cindy Sheehan, the mother of a dead American
media also covered the landing of the Discovery, in great detail. The French are very interested in space,
and in satellites. Every day, it
seems, there is at least one story in the paper concerning satellites. Today’s was about Globecast, an affiliate
of France Telecom, cutting the broadcast signal for a Hezbollah Shiite Libyan
TV channel from Globecast’s Hispasat and Asiasat satellites. That means no more terrorist-sympathizing
broadcasts for this channel in Asia and
that the signal be cut was made by the
People in the
commercial disaster to hit
Such is life in
the EU. Have you ever wondered who
would be king of
But alas the
royalty is gone and their palace, the
Recent conversation in French with French waiter, translated for your convenience and comprehension:
Waiter: What country do you come from?
Me: My two friends here come from
Me: I don’t like George Bush.
Waiter: I don’t either. I mean, his brother, he is, what do you call it . . . .
Jeb Bush. He is governor of
Waiter: Me, too. Yes, Jeb Bush! I don’t like him. (Big Smile.) What will you have?
Me: Please, one Niçoise salad.
Waiter, smiling: What good French you speak!
Me: Thank you. And a glass of Sancerre, white, please.
Recent conversation with two elderly, confused French tourists, translated for your convenience:
Woman: Madam, please, excuse me for disturbing you, but we are looking for the Bateaux Parisienne for dining. They told us to take the Grenelle bridge halfway, down the stairs to the left, and it would be there.
Me (as I climb the stairs to the bridge at the end of the Allée aux Cygnes): Normally, the boat is right there (pointing to a little platform with steps down to the water). But not now. I don’t know why.
Man: Oh good.
Woman: Thank you, madam. Thank you very much! And thank you for your time.
Me: It’s nothing.
The woman and man descend the steps and wait by the little platform with steps. I sure hope the boat was on its way back.