Update2: Paris

The most indulgent thing one can do is to treat one's self when there's really no particular reason to do so. It's my absolute favorite form of treat. Birthday gifts, christmas gifts, valentine prezzies... it's all so very much... expected. It's too justifiable to be enjoyable.

Sometimes you really just want to walk into a shop on a blue Tuesday morning and walk out with a stack of books under your arm that you didn't really deserve. Or to buy a birthday cake when really, it's not your birthday. Or, in our case, to book a romantic weekend when really, there's no need for romance-focussed breaks just yet.

The plan was, quite simply, to check into a nice little hotel, indulge in lazy bed-days, hip shopping-sprees, artsy-fartsy exhibits and gourmet meals.

What we really got was, phlegm, snot and feverish sleep (Jo was ill) with a side order of rain, frosbite winds, full wallets, empty shopping bags and very few vegetarian gourmet meals.


Having said that, we managed to haul ass to the Moulin Rouge (seediest street imaginable), strolled around the Montmartre (got shouted at by a particularly rude Francaise), loitered at the Dali-exhibit, queued at the Louvre, played a few rounds of "spot-the-poof" at Le Marais , had far too much sushi at a conveyer belt and watched an ever so sexy Meryl Streep in the lousiest film of the year (Lions for Lambs).

Othe than that, two moments in particular stick to mind.

Memorable Moment #1:
We've just sat down in an almost empty cinema. We make ourselves comfortable and marvel at the fact that it's so quiet, when in comes Mister Blob. Mister Blob is in his late twenties, studenty-looking and clearly struggles to keep his shirt in his far-too-tight XXL pair of trousers. He detects the available seat in front of us and slouches into it. Within seconds, Mister Blob is making rather obscene leg motions, which has even my not-so-prudish girlfriend raising an eyebrow or two. I sink further back into my seat so as to put more distance between Mister Blob and myself, but the motions continue unabated. I avert my eyes to the screen for a while, till my girrel gives me a rather indiscrete nudge. My eyes now drift from the screen to her index finger to the object its pointing at and find... Mister Blob picking his nose and alternatingly eating it then rubbing it off on his still obscenely motive legs. After a couple of minutes, we decide to pack up and move to different seats. We've only just relocated when Mister Blob turns around to give us a very indignant, almost upset, look. Which begs the question. Did he seriously feel the excessive nose-picking and obscene movements were acceptable? Or have Jo and I just become massively intolerant?

Memorable Moment #2:
We're queueing for tickets for the Paris Underground when, one after the other, tourists with oversized bags get stuck between the ticket-barriers. One guys was unfortunate enough to get his daypack stuck and actually needed to wait till someone pushed him through from the other end, to get loose.

So, I start to giggle and Jo turns to face me and says:

-"That's a Health & Safety hazard! You could totally lose a minor limb there!"
-"You mean, as opposed to losing a major limb?"
-"Well, you know what I mean, you could easily lose a left arm in there!"
-"Ahhh. And that's ever so slightly less major a limb, why... exactly?"
-"Well, it is if you're right-handed."
-"I wonder how many people died of ticket-barrier deaths."
-"You've got really morbid tendencies, you know that?"
-"Maybe I should look it up for my next blog-post."
-"You totally should."