Sarah came back from Madrid for the week-end and dragged us around for shopping. we compromised on an ice-cream break on top of BHV (a huge department store located in the first arrondissement) with a nice view of the city. The top-floor “tea salon” of BHV is nothing too threatening to tiffany’s or even neiman marcus’, more like a big patch of astroturf and a few benches with an ice-cream stand in the middle. But at least it was way above car exhaust level, which is always appreciable in Paris.

 

Arriving at Perpignan’s local airport reminded me of small African airports…
these airports where a dozen passengers exit directly on the tarmac and walk under a heavy sun to a building which looks more like an abandoned office space than a buzzing airport facility…

Ok, at long last, an entry on Paris…

Just when it started looking like Paris was still all about annoyingly grumpy parisians, endless strikes and rude, eternally malcontent, cab drivers (a mere thirty minutes after leaving the airport, I had my first lecture on how shuttle buses from the airport where stealing work from cabs and how he usually never picked fares at the shuttle station)…

 No, it’s not a joke.
a friend brought these back from Shizuoka…
They look like regular chocolate candies, except for the pastel green color, and they taste exactly like they are supposed to: chocolate and wasabi. Despite the interesting mixture of flavors, I would not exactly recommend this, except for practical jokes…
the kanas on the label read: “choko-wasabi”
maybe there’s a market for a dijon mustard-flavored chocolates…