Les Petit trucs de Paris (pt 1)

So many things. So much to see. And no matter what I did, or where I went, I was CONSTANTLY bombarded with random little awesome things...

This was THE FIRST thing I saw upon exiting Gare du Nord...

... and in some way it reassured me that though I was again half way across the world that I wasn't too far from home. This was, of course, before I was hustled by a street kid to "donate" money, then was harassed for not giving enough.

Just then, a funny little truck drove by...

... and I knew that everything would be OK. After all, I had made it, and made it great, in India. Paris would just be the

Feeling relieved after my personal realization I stumbled upon what looked like a big green pepper.

As I looked closer at the sign I wondered who in their right mind would just be walking down the street and find themselves in need of a place to properly dispose of their wine bottle?!

Is it really that common in Paris to be drinking wine on the street?!

The answer is yes.

The next day I awoke, and upon returning to the streets began to learn a couple of French rules.

1 - Smoking of certain cigarettes is only allowed on Tuesdays. (I made the mistake of buying this pack on a Saturday)

2 - Whenever juices are served it is the law that they are accompanied by the corresponding matching glass.

And 3 - Work is not synonymous with life. Shoppes open at an appropriate hour, close when the day is ending, and above all else vacation when it is beautiful.

Even though that particular shoppe was the Fromagerie that I had hoped to buy cheese from I was amused by the world's coolest windmill...

It seemed like a very Dutch thing to find in Paris, but soon I stumbled upon a reminder that Paris is definitely Paris. It seems that having a mustache is so Parisian that even the mannequins don them.

So in order to properly blend in as one of them I made sure to make the change.

 (later it would be confirmed by Momo and Dan that my mustache makes me very Parisian, though my speaking does not)

In proper attire with my new 'stache in tow I felt ready to take advantage of what Paris had to offer...

Wherever this "happy happy" place was located was clearly where all the real Parisians would find themselves. I set out to find it.

The street signs on the corner were very helpful, telling which way to a museum or attraction. They did not, however, give a clue as to what street it was. I did not find happy happy...

...but instead found a reminder of loses seemingly in the distant past back home but ever so present in Paris. It was moving.

A few steps down the road revealed another kind of movement in action within...

And thanks to the great "road signs" I was directed to a space age public toilet on the street

With room to work I found a restaurant fitting for a man of my new Parisian stature...

The food was good, though the ambiance was a little different than the sign had indicated I should expect.

As the day turned into evening - and then slowly night - I discovered that Parisians really...

Really...

REALLY...

REALLY REALLY...

...don't like television(s).

But they do however like horseback riding...

On the walk home I discovered this shoppe; Pour les Cavaliers.

You know... in case one found themselves in downtown Paris in need of a new saddle. I mean, the "big green pepper" surely seemed ludicrous before I discovered that it wasn't so far fetched to need it.

The shoppe signaled that I also may be in a very affluent part of town. Is the Eiffel tower location a good one to be in?!

OF course it is! Happy happy is located there! I finally found that which the promising billboard had inspired me to search for.

But I couldn't seem to find a big green pepper when I needed one most!