The Green Cross

When you need a pharmacy in France, you just look for the green neon cross, there's bound to be at least one, if not five on every main street.

I know I said in my last post that I was feeling a lot better, but it seems that after every three days of work I crumble all over again. So on Saturday, as the doctors clinics are closed, I decided to go see a pharmacist instead. I had heard that pharmacists in France are highly competent and very trusted as a source of advice for all minor illnesses. They are also able to give out drugs that would require prescriptions in other countries. So it's quite common, if you've got a little 'souci' (worry) to go and have a chat with your pharmacist, who will most likely hook you up with some suppositories. Well not always, but seriously, I think it is the preferred method of um, administering your medicine here. The twins had ear infections last week and there were suppositories as part of the prescribed medications.

I have 4 pharmacies within 5 minutes of my place, all on the the same street, so I chose the one that the family uses, hoping some name-dropping might get me friendly service. I'm sure the service would have been lovely anyway, as the lady listened attentively and then scurried off for solutions. Pharmacies here don't sell the plethora of stuff that Kiwi ones do, and the front of store, with just a smattering of makeup and shampoo, was smaller than the storeroom/concoction lab, or whatever it's called. She returned with a pill for my churny tum and another for my nausea as well as some general advice for keeping well. It was so cheap, and if I had been a French - or if my carte de sejour had been processed...grrr - it would have been pretty much free.

So the lesson of the day: when in France, your pharmacist is your friend. And in the event that you pick some fungi in the wood and want to know if you can eat it, take it to your pharmacist, they're trained to know their mushrooms too.

And just to change the topic a little...I have a mosquito who is stalking me. For the last four nights I have woken with a start at the sound of a buzzing in my ear. Back in April when we had the heatwave, there were lots of mosquitos, and I would often be woken by them and then sit there, book in hand until the rascal flew close and I could smoosh it good and dead. They are pretty big and slow so I always succeeding in exterminating them and thus ensuring I could safely go back to sleep. Only this time round, though I leap up in bed and switch on the light, I can never see her (only the females bite). I sit there with my book ready, scanning the room, ears straining, and there is nothing. I give up and go back to sleep, and when I wake up I have a new bite.

I'm mystified: I know that I hear the buzzing and it always terrifies me out of my sleep, but I never see a mosquito. I've just been reading Maupassant's short story The Horla, and here, I am with my own Horla. Though instead of a mysterious creature that drinks milk and water in the night, as in the story, this one is drinking my blood. Ew!

better and better

I almost back to my normal self. Still a little drowsy in the afternoons but feeling much more alive! And there are only 5 more school days until the summer holidays so I'm kind of slipping into a more relaxed mode. I've just sorted out my July holidays, which will start here in Paris with visits from Dunedinites and then I'll be flying to Austria to spend a couple of weeks with the Huber clan. I am very excited about this and am having visions of myself in a dress made from curtains dancing on a wild-flowered meadow and singing 'the hills are alive...' Even if that particular scene does not eventuate I am sure there will be much mountain walking and strudel eating and general unwinding after 4 months in Paris.
I have another week to plan out at the end of July and am tossing up between WWOOFing in Italy, checking out Croatia or possibly hitting Berlin again. It will kind of depend when the family needs me in August. I'm going to be joining them all in Cannes for what will surely be one of my most luxurious working holidays ever.
I have to keep thinking of theses lovely prospects as sawdust fills the air and parts of my kitchen pile up beside me. I've lost count, but the builders and plumber are back AGAIN to 'fix the leak'. I'm smug because I suggested right from the start that is was a leak from the apartment above and no one would listen to me and know it turns out that, whadd'ya know, it's all coming from my upstairs neighbour. Unfortunately all the water has ruined my walls during it's descent so it's out with the kitchen again.
I'll get some pictures of the craziness once the men have left. If they ever leave. It has been 3 hours already...

Garden State

And while I have a lot of time to kill...let me share a little bit of greenery with you.
I must say that I am pretty impressed with the effort that Paris is making to become more eco-friendly and, well, in my opinion more livable. Livable for those who need to see a leaf every now and then! There is some kind of initiative at the moment to start developping more gardens - including community projects to produce veges - and optimising green spaces. For this month the square in front of Hotel de Ville has been turned into a large garden display, and always eager to smell the roses, I went to check it out.

Such a pity that they won't be keeping it permanently! It turns an otherwise boring flat space into a veritable paradise in the center city.

overload

What a dramatic title, but it kind of sums up a little of how I am feeling. I think that perhaps I have some kind of virus, I haven't really been myself for about 4 days, but have felt obliged to keep working. Stupid of me probably but I hate to disappoint people and I find calling in for a sick day really hard to do! Today though I can't stay standing for more than ten minutes so I sucked it up and said I needed the day off. And of course my darling employer was entirely sympathetic and offered to help in any way she could. Why was I worried?
So this week has been pretty horrible from a health point of view but at least the kids were well behaved and now I have 3 days to recover the best I can. Bring on the holidays. I feel the dire need to get out of the city.
Can you see the ocean from your house? Go now and gaze upon it. Is there a climbable tree in your garden? Go and clamber into the branches. Do you have a dog? Take him or her to the beach and run in bare feet along the sand. Oh to climb a hill or do a handstand or pick a wild flower. My dreams are filled with waves and forests and treetops, because I can't have any of them here in Paris. I love this city and it constantly surprises and delights me but it's hard not to feel a little like a caged bird when I compare it with the wide open spaces of home.
And here finish the melancholic ramblings of bed-bound Sophie.
Maybe I'm just bitter because I'm going to miss out on a fun-filled weekend in order to be sensible and take care of myself.
Last weekend was awesome, we went out to a Jazz festival at the Chateau de Vincennes. People were picnicking and lounging on the grass and it was hot. It was quite blissful to lie on the grass and listen to jazz in the warm evening air. Here are some pics:

arty

Sunday began with American style pancakes, scrambled eggs and toast. A hearty brunch to fuel a trip to the Musée d'Orsay for free museum Sunday. Four of us girls met up in Neuilly and first had a look around the annual 'garage sale'. This is basically an opportunity for anyone and everyone to set up a stall out on the street selling off their old junk. It was a cool festival atmosphere; they closed off the streets to traffic, Madonna and Pink were blasting through the loud speakers, the smell of patisseries and nougat filled the air and the sun was out. Actually it was too hot to spend long looking at table after table of ugly vases, novelty shot glasses and jewellery from the 80s, so we carried on our way.
We decided on Musée d'Orsay which is definitely one of my faves and did the sensible thing by choosing to visit just half of one floor. It's not as big as the Louvre but in my opinion you would still need about 8 hours to do it justice!
Here are some of my 'coups de coeur'.

Circus by George Seurat

And life imitates art as this guy in a pointilist shirt photographs a painting in the pointilist style.
Porte de la Rochelle by Paul Signac
The Meal by Paul Gauguin
And when museum fatigue hits it's time to trot across into St Germain for Croque Monsieur and a rosé. Perfect finish to a lovely day.

gratte-ciel

Last week I took a couple of trips to La Defense, once out of necessity, and then twice more because I was quite intrigued.
La Defense is the skyscraper district to the west of Paris. Many of France's largest corporations are housed here, and a total of 1500 businesses employ about 150,000 people. As I get out at my metro stop I can flick a glance to the left and see the impressive Grande Arche on the horizon. I kind of thought it would be a pretty boring place full of suits and tall buildings. It has both of these but also turns out to have some architectural gems and some funky sculpture. I had a dreaded visit to the Prefecture (situated in the Defense) on Thursday morning to continue the process for my residency permit. When I had to go through this process while living in Lyon it took several trips and many tears before I obtained the silly thing; so needless to say I have been braced for the worst. I went armed with 9 documents and their photocopies, and happily, thanks to my 9am appointment I had only a 20 minute wait. Normally one can expect at least an hour of queueing. And then found myself face to face with a lovely woman a who stamped in all the right places and now I can go back in two months time (and wait in line for 90 mins?) to pick up the little sticker and pop it in my passport.
I feel privileged to say that I am among the few who have had a mostly pleasant experience with French bureaucracy.
Lets cut this long story short. On this obligatory visit I had a quick look around and saw that the area merited some more of my time, and my oh my, it has a huge mall.
On a bright sunny friday I returned with camera:
Miro sculpture with the Grande Arche
Looking up when standing under the arch.
View from the arch, looking towards Paris. If you look very closely you can see the Arc de Triumph on the horizon. The two arches are perfectly lined up.

More photos on flickr.
And then on Saturday I attempted the mall but it was so enormous and teeming that I skipped through Auchan (big ol cheapo supermarket) and, armed with my groceries fled into the sunlight.