Zombie mouth

What's zombie mouth, you ask?  Well, I went back to London three weeks ago, and I ordered bangers and mash for my dinner.  It's my favourite pub food and I hadn't had it in nearly a year, so when it arrived at my table, Ol' Greedyguts here was so excited that I immediately crammed some into my face.  Which would have been absolutely fine if the sausage hadn't been approximately the same temperature as the surface of the sun - it was so hot that it quite literally fused to the roof of my mouth.  All of the skin there immediately blistered and ripped open, so I had shreds of my own flesh hanging down into my mouth like little stalactites of skin.   It was excruciatingly painful and absolutely revolting - now I know why zombies are always so dang hostile...

Now, you might think that I would be eating nothing but ice chips for a few days after that, but don't be ridiculous, Miss K is made of sterner stuff than that.  I was in London and I was damn well going to make the most of it.  I was staying with friends and not eating in public, so was able to eat and drink in my normal excessive fashion, but in a manner that I like to call the "baby bird" technique - small bites, chew everything really well and then fling my head back and gulp it down with my mouth slightly open.  Yes, I'm just that classy.  Hey, when you spend a whole week with no skin on your hard palate and every swallow is so painful that it feels like your mouth is filled with battery acid, then you can judge me.

So let's add up the tally for my excessively accident-prone year - first there was the bald eye, then the cartoon-sized foot, and then zombie mouth.  Miss K really is quite a catch, gentle readers, can you even believe I'm still single???

Photos from the Camargue (Part 2)

I did tell you bulls were a big thing around here...

Photos from the Camargue (Part 1)

First of many bulls

Beware of the bull. Hee!

Our rather splendid beach bbq site

Not quite sure how I got a shot of this insect, but there it is

Busy, busy, busy

Has it really been a week?  Gentle readers, I do apologize for my neglect, I truly had every intention of keeping up with this blog during my travels, but I just never seemed to have time (last week) or internet (this weekend).  It's all been somewhat crazed - I was in London on Tuesday through Thursday for work, but still managed to see a few friends for lunches, dinners and (of course) cocktails.  Got back with just enough time to unpack my suitcase and re-pack it for the mystery trip with my Paris office, which involved me having to be at the Gare de Lyon at 7:45 on Friday  morning (a hideous hour for a non-morning-person like me, I do assure you).  We ended up in the Camargue, which is a rather lovely area famed for horses, salt, and bulls.  I know - random.  But it was good fun: beach bbq, horseback riding, scavenger hunt, flamenco dancing, tons of great food (who knew bull stew was so delicious?) and a great deal of lovely wine (which I very much needed, because being with 27 over-excited French people all talking at once isn't exactly my idea of a relaxing weekend).  But sadly, I didn't escape unscathed - I managed to sprain my ankle on Saturday afternoon and spent the rest of the trip hobbling around with it swollen to hilariously cartoonish proportions.  Oh well, at least it wasn't another black eye...

Miss K - Travel Weasel

I know I will get absolutely no sympathy about this, but Paris is feeling a little stale to me right now.  But before you start lighting the torches and sharpening the pitchforks, let me explain why - it's because I haven't left the city in nearly a year.  I got back to Paris just before New Year's Eve, and other than a day trip to Vaux-le-Vicomte (the post on that is yet to come, with fabulous photos), I haven't been outside the city in all these months - for a travel weasel like me, that's a looooooooooooong time to be in one place.  Last year I managed to get to London, Toronto, Monaco and Marrakech.  The year before that: Prague, Bucharest and Istanbul.  I once went around the world in 31 days.  I once went to Egypt in the spring and Jordan in the autumn of the same year. I once spent Christmas in a Scottish castle and then went to Barcelona for New Year's.  And those are just a few examples...  The point is, I used to travel.  

I think part of the reason I have had such a crappy year is that I've got a bad case of cabin fever, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.  Between the nightmare of trying to find places to live and not having any money, I just couldn't go anywhere.  BUT the travel gods have smiled upon me - I am leaving for London tomorrow for a work trip, and will have to go back again for work, probably next week or possibly the week after.  And in between, my whole office in Paris is going off for a corporate retreat in the south of France.  Okay, so all these trips are work-related and they're not very exciting, but I don't care.  I am going somewhere, and when that brief flurry of travel dies down, then I'll be able to appreciate Paris again.  In the meantime, if you could try not to stab me with those pitchforks, I'd really appreciate it...

It's a brocante thing (Part 2)

So, gentle readers, yesterday we learned about things you might see at a brocante.  Today is a continuation, along with some handy tips:

1) take cash, it's easier to haggle.

2) try to keep in mind what you need, as opposed to what you want (which will be many things - not good when one is on a budget).  I finally found the perfect wineglasses at this brocante (yes, after three months of making do with the martini glasses I told you about in Apartment, bitches) and restricted myself to those, but if I actually had money to spend?  Dang!

3) if you are a reasonably youthful, moderately attractive female by yourself at a brocante, it may be that the female vendors will be snippy with you, and it may be that the male vendors will try to work some flirting into the haggling.  At a previous brocante, I cheerfully bartered a kiss on the cheek for a few extra peacock feathers (hey, they're expensive!), but I drew the line this time when the guy got a little handsier than necessary when "helping" me try on a necklace.  Just saying...

4) keep your eyes peeled - not only for the cool things around you, but also for people with strollers and tiny dogs - possibly not a tripping hazard for the likes of you, but for anyone as clumsy as Miss K, it's a damn minefield.  

Just a few little tips from me to you, now on with the photos:

The sign is cool enough, but WITH the wooden gorilla looking at it?  Way cooler.

Zillions of teeny-tiny adorable doorknobs. 

Not just books, but books with a big horned animal skull underneath.  Awesome.

Arfully patinated chairs, cool vases, groovy old paintings, pop-art Marilyn AND a little wooden tiger.  Couldn't love it more if I tried.

Love the jaunty sailor painting but REALLY love the totally over-it dog.

Funky tiled table, 4' tall inflatable phone, and freaky puppet head.  No comment.

Very much liked this chest-of-drawers, but REALLY wanted the big metal cheetah.  Ahhh, someday.

Do you see it, at the back, beside the teacups?  A KNIGHT'S HELMET!!!  By the teacups! So. Damn. Cool.

I like these guys, just chillin'.

Putting the giant lion's head on top of the Union Jack stool? Genius. And please note the adorable little dog top of the photo just for added cuteness.

FINALLY!  I can drink wine like a civilized person again - from my €2 glasses, which are crystal, no less!  Worth the wait...

It's a brocante thing (Part 1)

One of my very first posts was about markets in Paris (Saturday mornings), and I've written about them since (To market), but I don't believe I've ever written about brocante before. A brocante is a very specific kind of market - not a flea market where you have random guys selling socks and dodgy cosmetics, but a flea market that is full of interesting things - not specifically antiques, just things (which tend to be pretty awesome).  I personally love a good brocante, not so much to shop at them, but to take photos - you have to give the French credit, because at these markets, things are not just piled up on a table, they're all carefully arranged to look damn cool.  So if you ever visit Paris and happen to see a sign for a brocante, try to swing by and see it - you may find a groovy little something to take home with you...

Cricket balls, pipes, police sign, boxes of Christmas ornaments, a wood and iron gate AND a Lenin banner - what could be better?

Not so sure about the crazy dog in uniform (seriously, wtf?), but loving the rest of the stuff at this stall

Oh, if I had an extra €900 lying around, this bad boy would have SO been coming home with me

Clocks! Lamps! Clocks! Lamps! (and a couple of cool chairs, too)

Chart of the human musculo-skeletal system, anyone? In French, no less.

Furry critters

Freaky hand lamp thingie

Damn cool

So nicely arranged

Yes, that's a chamber pot.  And it still smelled like a chamber pot.

The dancing lady? The Buddha? The metal giraffes?  I wanted them all!