Doha to Paris

We returned from South Africa to an apartment whose floors were littered with all the crap we’ve accumulated over the past two years.

After a week of head-scratching, we managed to fit everything into 3 trunks to be shipped, 4 luggages to check in, two backpacks and two laptop cases to carry with us on the plane. We said goodbye to friends (another post on this) and bid our goodbyes to 2 years in Qatar.

We left 30°C Doha and arrived at 2°C Paris. It was a Friday night, and the peripherique was packed. It took us one hour and an extremely talkative taxi driver to get from the airport to the 15th arrondissement, as we were crashing at Julien’s cousin’s flat for a week until a room at the aparthotel we’d be staying in would be available.

After a weekend that comprised of an exhibit (From Miro to Warhol), buying concert tickets (Black Angels, December 8th) and various cocktails with friends (overpriced Mai Tais, chardonnays and a strange banana rum cocktail at a snotty cafe close to the Eiffel Tower), it was time for the dirty work: apartment-hunting!

I have a lot of stories to tell about apartment-hunting, but I leave that for another post; needless to say it included 90 euros worth of phone credits trying to book appointments for apartment visits, nonstop walking under the rain and cold, numerous cups of weak McDonald’s coffee in order to use their Wifi, and numerous visits to apartments I’d never dream of living in.

We are now in a hotel near La Defense. We wear creased clothes straight from our luggage. We spend our two-day weekend lazing around, hanging out at FNAC, getting lost in the streets, and checking out the Christmas markets. We cross our fingers for a good apartment to come our way soon, and look forward to the exciting possibilities life will bring us in the following months.

Currently listening to:
Live it Out

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