Okay, I blogged a naked post last night, all because I'm sick. Not dying and in hospital sick, but sick enough to have me sleep ten hours last night (I normally have around six) and enough that I knew I wasn't well enough to do a reasonable post. I also missed out on going to dinner and meeting a cat - so I am well miffed.
Yet, you will often get sick after you allow yourself to slow down. Many get sick on holiday. For me, I've been working like a dog for two and a half years, I'm not that surprised that I fell over.
Anyway, even though not feeling the best, I managed to get in 20,000 steps, thanks to a pain patch, lots of ibuprofen and water stops and sheer bloody-mindedness. I went through the Musee Carnavalet - excellent, but you need a good day to get through it. had a walk and a sneaky Jambon Beurre (Ham Sandwich) by the Seine, went to a clothing market (which smelled like every other clothing market I've been to), visited some churches, did some people watching and had a dirty burger for dinner. A good day yes - and enough to put me to bed for ten hours.
So, what did I learn yesterday?
Here are some dot points:
- All clothing markets smell of mothballs, desperation and eccentricity.
- If you start talking to a dog, the dog will respond. You can strike up a gentle conversation with a French person by asking about the dog.
- French dogs are allowed in restaurants. I'm in two minds about this. It's fine if they are well behaved.
- One of the best things you can bring with you on holiday is Metamucil sachets.
- And Imodium. Have used the former.
- You have to remember that vegetables to the French are potatoes, leeks, onions and garlic, all drowned in butter and garlic - hence the need for Metamucil.
- Monoprix makes Kmart look very dowdy.
- There is something to be said for doing your own washing in a French laundrette - people do say hello.
- Allegedly having a bird shit on you is good luck. I don't know, but it was the reason I did the said load of washing.
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