Welcome to my world! My name's Nik, and I'm a British expatriate who has been living in Paris, France for the last five years. Even though I never planned to stay in Paris for very long, now I'm here I've no plans to leave soon - the beauty of Paris has never worn off, and so far it's been a five year long vacation! Enjoy my ramblings...
apartments

« I'll eat it if you will | Main | Living the dark ages »

Grind

It seems my blogging pace has reduced to a crawl :-(

Life is still just boulot-vino-dodo (there never was a métro - I could say vélo I suppose), although I've cut out the vino part since it was getting a bit much, so now it's just boulot-dodo, which is a bit too short to be a snappy phrase and is definitely too few things to bounce between and not feel completely dizzy. So, not much variety of life going on, which means not much blogging...

In fact the most exciting thing that's happened is that I've discovered sage tea. How exciting - should increase my party invites tenfold ;-)

It's true though, I was feeling somewhat under the weather and feeling hot and sweaty for no real reason and generally not getting things together properly. I did a little research and found that sage tea was a pretty good for a lot of things, and so popped down to the market by Bastille to pick up some. By the way, as a digression, the market by Bastille is fantastic - Thursday to Sunday (I think), and it covers the huge central area of Boulevard Richard Lenoir. Tons of great stalls, all with wonderfully fresh food.

The day I started drinking the tea, everything got better. Admittedly there were a few other factors, such as stopping the vino and coffee, and the horrendous humid heat cleared (hoorah for heavy handed halliteration!), but I definitely perked up. If it's psychosomatic then I don't care, in fact bring it on (where can I buy some placebo pills, I've heard they're good...). It doesn't taste too bad either, although I've always enjoyed herbal teas, and it's similar to nettle tea which used to be one of my favourites.

Oh, and the other thing was my birthday slipped by quietly. When friends asked how old I was, I thought it was 38, but Alison quickly worked out I was 37 (I don't mention names here much, but Alison insists! Alison Alison Alison Alison - that should do for a few months). She was right of course, and somewhere in the fog of time I'd lost count of my years. This was somewhat depressing since it means that being 37 is now going to drag on another year, and 36 seems a wonderfully young age that was only a few days ago but I never knew it. Like being told you've woken from a coma and it's twenty years later, except it was only a year, and I was awake the whole time, so not much like a coma I guess...

So that's it. Back to boulot, and watch the clock waiting for dodo.