Cars, Cleaners, and Christmas

La nouvelle voiture a arrive!

Even though we’re terrified to drive it, the car is lovely, particularly when it’s stationary! It is parked a mere 5 minute walk away (why did I ever complain about parking on Trowbridge Road???) in a spot so tight with it takes me at least 10 minutes to park it, putting both side mirrors in to avoid contact. It is lovely, but to be used sparingly.

The first time driving it on my own to collect Sam from school I was stopped by the police. I was 5 minutes into the drive, just starting to feel confident, gearing up for the big roundabout at Cambronne and Boulevard de Grenelle, and voila! I couldn’t believe I’d done something wrong so soon (yet almost everything you do in this country is ‘wrong’). The policeman asks for the car’s papers and licence and quickly worked out I was not French. I did however manage to splutter out, ‘C’est la premiere fois je conduit a Paris!’ He was very sympathetic to this nervous, foreign mother and though spoke no English, attempted to explain why I was being stopped. He used the verb 'voler' which means both to steal and to fly, though I was only aware of the latter definition. Though confused, I assumed he thought I was 'flying' too fast and I was about to be slapped with a speeding ticket, but luckily he was just checking ownership for stolen cars. Sympathetically, he stopped traffic to let me back in. Needless to say it threw me for the rest of the journey but I managed to get there in one piece.
Sam’s comment at the end of journey, après police and 10 minute parking episode summed it up, ‘Mom, if we took the metro we would have been home by now!’ Cheeky monkey.

La femme de ménage a arrive aussi!

Ok, I have to put my hand up and admit it now, we finally gave in and got a cleaner (which seems to be the norm in poncy Paris). Very sweet but far too subservient (yes madame, whatever you want madame), I’m still struggling with the whole concept, cleaning before she gets here or alongside her, but the 3 hours she’s here does make a difference as I'm fed up with ironing endlessly crispy clothes, I'm in Paris for goodness sake, there is more fun to be had (all the women nodding their heads in agreement, all the men shaking their heads I have 3 words for you - CRAZY HORSE SALOON - do you think those girls spend all their free time cleaning???? J'en sais foutrement rien!!).

Paris is stunning at Christmas time. They really go for it far more than I ever expected, the decorations and lights are beautiful. There's queues outside the big department stores because the window displays are so fantastic, it's a tradition for the Parisian children to go and see them. They’ve even made our favourite Boulangerie into an igloo on the inside and out, complete with polar bears.

A lovely place to spend Christmas, but we're off to the UK.