journal

Following our strategic progress arrondissement by arrondissement, we tackled the Beaubourg. Thought to. But setting forth from one of the seedier stations, harrassed by cigarette sellers and ticket pushers – a wall of them on the steps up to the station – Barbès-Rochechouart, we were limited in our choice of lines

The temperature drops again, down below 14 degrees, and the rain falls intermittently throughout the day. I’m sitting looking out at a dense grey sky over Montmartre, behind the rear tower of Sacre Coeur. The courtyard behind our apartment has string netting stretched above and between it and the

Our first Saturday in Paris, we headed out to the periphery rather than in to the centre, to the flea markets around Porte de Clignancourt. Bus 85. A false start. We went the wrong way, to Luxembourg rather than Mairie de St.-Ouen. Discovering our mistake early, we hopped off

The day in question brings the night into question as well. It all starts at 19:57 on Gleis 8 – not to be mistaken with Gleis 7 – of Berlin’s Hauptbahnhof – the most expensive building the city’s forked out for recently – … when, after a rushed Pizza Hut mozzarellarama, and

I’m sitting in a second-class sleeping compartment drinking red wine looking forward to leaving the train in Mannheim. It was supposed to be first-class. A sleeping compartment but one with washing facilities, more space, better. It was supposed to be white wine but the bottle fooled me.

German ringing in my head, voices clamouring to be heard, after going to the theatre last night. We bought Tageskarten, day passes, to the transport system, allowing us to train-hop, tram-hop anywhere in the city, and in the morning made our way by U8, U2, U6, to Hallesches