Fox on a Boat

Monument au Général Koenig Paris is an impatient city, full of cars that seem to know exactly how to drive, where and when, in the confusing maze of lights and turns and strange bus lanes. There is no space for learners, no space for the tourist or the novice. A moment's hesitation at a turn, at a light, at a stop, and the line of cars formed in a half second behind you will loudly make their frustration known. A cacophony of klaxons. I saw Paris, briefly, on a cold December morning. I'd boarded a coach at Victoria station in London at 21h, which, after certain unexplained issues, left over an hour late, snaking its way through congested London streets under the English drizzle. I fell into a light-ish sleep, the state in between being awake and asleep - not quite aware, but still alert. Dover. We inched our way through the port for close to an hour. I was overcome by waves of nausea. The ferry was late due to bad weather. I got out of the coach. The wind was harsh, b...

Hello again, everyone. I am back from my unexpected French travels, having arrived this week. So far, so good - I managed to catch up to the first two episodes of Sherlock, which I had been waiting for with great impatience. I didn't dislike them, but I feel a little strange about them. There was a certain aspect to them in the first two series that is missing in the third one. I did enjoy the episodes, though - with Benedict Cumberbatch's face present in nearly every scene, I'll never be truly dissatisfied.. My favourite line so far probably has to be "He's clueing for looks". Today was a very successful Sunday. I made brunch for the family, then set off to Canary Wharf to check out the ice sculptures created for the London Ice Sculpting Festival . After a (real Belgian) hot chocolate, it was time for my mother and me to try some sculpting of our own.. Our session went by quickly - we had less than twenty minutes, but we were very h...