Have just returned from Gay Paris, where we spent most of the day flaneur-ing, not entirely intentionally. We were aiming for the highline-type park, but it was shut, due to Mayday. We saw many many bunches of muguet, and DS was thrilled to see lots of armed police, as we were flaneur-ing in the location of Place de la Bastille. It would seem that soon after we left there was a riot, with tear gas and molotov cocktails. While thrilling, that probably would have been rather too exciting.
In direct contrast to any excitement, I sat next to a man reading 'Total Carp' magazine on the way home. I did wonder whether the 'a' and 'r' were the right way round.
Nice to be home seeing kitties, and not to be hosted by lovely but flaky friends. They drove DP to the edge of homicide with their faffing. For instance, last night's dinner. How long do you think it would take for two people to cook pasta in sauce, garlic bread, a green salad, broccoli and white asparagus? Well, it took them an hour and 40 minutes. And everything came out one at a time. Broccoli emerged 20 minutes before the pasta, which was 20 minutes before the asparagus. And hosts didn't sit down until the last thing was out. So we didn't know whether to eat while it was hot, or wait for them. All kind of weird. And no wine! They don't drink, so we had to get our thrills from their extensive herbal tea collection. They're from California. Says it all.