That les chiens are active members of French café life. I’ve been trying to get a picture like this since I got here and during my brisk walk around the neighborhood last night, I was finally successful. I love it! I stood and watched them for a few more minutes—I’m not sure what they were feeding the dog—maybe a hot-dog??—but it was getting its share.Since I was up so late the night before with Rolinka, I decided to make it an early one. And it was a night for earplugs. Some more Americans moved into the rental above me. How do I know they were Americans? Clomping up the stairs, loud talking, banging suitcases against the walls. Quel dommage! The ladies in the lower two apartments will not be happy.
So when I started to think about going to bed around 9, they (along with another friend who arrived earlier) were just clomping down the stairs to go out for dinner. Therefore, the reason for the ear plugs. Late dining is the norm in Europe. When I walk by restaurants and cafes at 8 PM, the tables are set and the candles are lit but no one is there—yet. At 9 PM any night of the week, places are overflowing and some have lines out the door. (PS - The earplugs were successful; I never heard my new neighbors come home.)
I mentioned earlier that because my apartment overlooks the courtyard, I don’t hear any street noise and only occasionally the faint melody of the police and ambulance sirens. (When Mary and I were here in 2005, she felt like she was in a movie when she heard those distinctive sounds—so different from ours.) But because I’m overlooking the courtyard, I get to hear the sound of wine bottles hitting the bottom of the trash receptacle in the courtyard of the building next to mine (our receptacles are in a closet with a door and therefore, more discreet). It’s not so bad when they’re throwing them i
n during the day or early evening--you hardly notice--but one night I heard them at 10:30 and another night at 12:30! And I’m not talking one bottle. During the 12:30 AM destruction mission, someone systematically and with great rhythm dropped one by one at least ten or eleven bottles into the trash! Crash-crash-crash-crash… You get the picture.Which reminds me, I still have this beautiful bottle that Rolinka brought over the other night. Of course, I will toss it into my discreet trash receptacle behind closed doors around noon. Ahhh, it was a very good year…
