Our home in Paris this month is a one bedroom apartment, on the 5th floor but with ascenseur or elevator. Welcome to the world of internet reservations; this is a dice shoot in most cases. The apartment is on a small street, an alley really, it is in the second Arrondesmont or district on the Right Bank of the river Seine.

Our small street has a very vibrant commercial life, on just our block I have counted 5 restaurants, 1 tattoo parlor, 2 hair salons, 2 bars, 1 hotel, 1 bakery, 1 café, and 2 piercing parlors, and 1 massage therapist. I am not counting the miscellaneous shops like the men’s clothing boutique that is readying for its grand opening. Humm, what if I got a piercing? Something tasteful.

Our Metro stop (Subway) is just 2 blocks away. This part of town has lots of urban texture; you know people you love to watch but maybe wouldn’t ask back for Christmas dinner.

We are two blocks from Rue de Montorgueuil which is a pedestrian street filled with restaurants, boulangeries, patissieries, cheese shops, green grocers, fish mongers, and tabacs. The super market as a concept exists in France but people seem to prefer dealing with individual merchants where they can discuss their purchase and it is more personal.

I came down with a cold and promptly passed it on to Mary. This cold is the grand daddy of all colds and has left us close to bed ridden for a week. In keeping with local custom Mary and I went to our local pharmacy (Pharmacie) for assistance. We discussed our symptoms with the kindly pharmacist; we used lots of gesturing and dramatic coughs. She sympathized and gave us some medications; we are now in a recovery mode, slow progress but progress. After all there is Christmas dinner to think about.