Living History

I love Sundays here - time stops and it's as if the automobile was never invented. I had to wait to catch a car on this major thoroughfare - even the A4 overpass to Paris is abandoned!

The dizzy cobblestone alleys of Centreville breathe their history in the sounds of my bike clattering along like an old cart and the smell of roasting chestnuts wafting from the châtaigne vendors on every corner. Exploring the deserted downtown while my laundry spins, I discovered why chestnuts were such an important part of Dickensian life. They attract all the senses: the charred aroma, the smooth symmetric shape, the warmth on your hands and the sharp snap as they yield, the sweetness mixed with carbon on your tongue.
Look - I saved a couple for you :-)

This week was fabuleuse - from losing an entire evening to an animated discussion on higher dimensions with Shawna and Rodolphe as our dinner lay forgotten to popping sparkling cider at Bee & Christine's intimate Bubbles & Sparkles house-warming to being treated by Ray to proper vegetarian pizza at la Poêle de Carrotte. There's a guinguette (an old-fashioned dance) at l'Artichault tonight - maybe I'll go. Mon nouveau vocabulaire de cette semaine: les bulles (bubbles), le moisi (mould) and ironically l'isolation (insulation).