11 December 2012

paris | montmartre

The day we visited Montmartre was the day on which I slipped on a puddle of pee at a metro station (big props to D for grabbing my arm and averting complete disaster ... I'm not sure that I would have ever quite recovered had I actually landed, eek!) and some old guy standing in a doorway temporarily blinded me by using a small mirror to reflect the sun right into my eyes as we walked past on the other side of the street.  When I looked back, I noticed that he was doing it to everybody, which is just ... bloody strange, really.  I was mildly comforted by the fact that he hadn't specifically singled me out, but I was also super unimpressed about the bright spots that I saw every time I blinked for about ten minutes after the Incident.  Tres hilarious, Monsieur.

Anyhow, Montmartre was its usual charming self - full of art and boulangeries and cobblestone streets and cafes, although I had forgotten about those guys who accost you every ten metres or so, armed with paper and offering to draw your portrait.  I did, however, like to peek at their drawings as I walked past in order to see whether they bore any resemblance to the subject, who was usually sitting there awkwardly and gazing off into the middle distance.  I will admit that some of them are really very talented, but I hate even having my photo taken, so I think that sitting for a portrait would pretty much leave me a basketcase ...


























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