French friends

I've decided that I spoil my readers, whoever they may be, with photos. And I don't even take that many photos, so in that sense I am really deceiving you. (Tricky, eh?) But from experience, most people prefer photos. They must be easier to view than large blocks of text.

So to satisfy the present needs of the public, I will share a few more select photos that capture a very small part of my stay in Paris thus far.

(Disclaimer: Readers, beware! Photo content will suddenly diminish when in Rennes.)

Food


While here in Paris, we eat out everyday . Cafés and restaurants in every corner, there is an endless number of places we can visit. Yesterday we had lunch at the Café Metro because we were intrigued by its English menu...but no one unfortunately ordered the Steak axe that came with "French friends."

Wine

When you can get decent wine for 2 or 3 euros a bottle, it's hard not to take advantage of it. The cave in at the Monoprix has a decent selection from which we buy several bottles at a time and drink it with bread and a hunk of Brie. They're not kidding when they associate the French with wine and cheese.

Sex
French culture is a lot more open about sex in general than American culture. For example, museums are full of paintings and photos of naked men and women. But if you really want to see sex in Paris, Pigalle is the place to go. Ever since the days of Bohemia in the 19th century, this part of the city embraced nightlife and idolized prostitutes and cancan dancers, who were at the bottom of society. And of course, the Moulin Rouge was the center of all this excitement.

Warthogs

I stole this picture from Sarah. In a display window in Au Vieux Campeur, a series of outdoor stores right near our hotel, there is a mountain scene with sledders, deer, and of course warthogs. In the very left corner there is one warthog on its side. At first glance, you are horrified because you think it's dead. But once you look at it, it's really giving birth by the presence of smaller warthogs nestled against it. Sure, it makes perfect sense.