We're sitting in our apartment, after another microwaved baked potato (we have no oven yet, grrr) admiring the view out over the roof tops in our corner of the Paris suburbs. We're about 20 minutes from the centre of the city and, although the only towers we can see are chimney stacks from a nearby power station it definitely feels very different to Leeds. So far we've tried to be very disciplined and so all our boxes are now unpacked (we were slightly forced into this by the fact that even one box took up such a large proportion of our space it was impossible to ignore, though Rémi did enjoy the maze like feel of the place).
The journey over was very smooth, making the most of the opportunity for the continuation of an ancient Tidmarsh tradition of greasy fry-ups on the ferry, and we had an incredible team of movers at either end. Our thanks go out to the well muscled Leeds crew (Chadders, Pete, Chris, Bob, Matt and Sam) and the physique et sportif French team (Rémi (big), Hannah, Pauline and our landlord and his son who amazingly turned up with several hours to spare and put in an incredible amount of work!)
The boy is settling in well, enjoying the lack of stairs, which means increased mobility, and the attention he gets from french grannies. In fact one guy came up to Katie in a supermarket and proclaimed that he was un bébé de consequence (a very consequential baby) whatever that means. We briefly toyed with the idea of cashing in on his popularity by finding him employment as a baby model, but I quickly realised the whole idea was just a bit freaky.
We spent Sunday in the park Montsouris (mouse-mountain) with folk from church, playing some great frisby and (very) competitive card games. We've been able to meet quite a few of our apartment block neighbours and hopefully we'll have them over for a housewarming aperitif soon.
