Summer time and the living is easy - too easy in Paris

As promised, here is my latest installment of what is now long gone. Summertime in Paris.

It seems a little odd to be writing about summertime considering the recently change in weather in Paris and what can only be described as a shockingly cold Autumn, which in turn can only be presumed as an early Winter. (Notice this year I am calling it Autumn, not Fall.) Not only is it odd to be writing about it, but I am predicting it will be somewhat hard to muster inspiration to deliver some sort of cheerfully, sunny memoir of days that deserve an overly cheerful and sunny attitude. None the less, I will try.

My second summer of 2009 was, generally speaking, great. Paris was much warmer than I expected to be, and the days long, blue, sunny and encouraging. Encouraging to be lazy, carefree and relaxing. I had been warned that every Parisian leaves Paris for summer - and when we put a time period on this term 'Summer' we literally do mean two months. And so yes, Paris was quiet, uncrowded (except for the tourist spots), calm and pleasant. And yes, people really do go away for two months. Including all my students, which therefore meant I had little to no work for the two months of summer.

Now the lazy part of me relaxingly yawned, stretched and continued to meander about to my hearts content, pleased with this unexpected vacation within the city. The bank account quietly screamed in resistance. No work means no pay. No pay means no money. And no money means that I simply continue to go about my life and try my hardest to ignore this fact. And if I can't ignore it, try my hardest not to let it stress me out. I have resigned to the fact that I am going to come away from this year in Paris dirt-broke poor with only the bones of my arse to live on. And that fat if I am going to be entirely honest.

Throughout the months of June, July and August I would on average work, at the most, 10 hours. Many weeks however I only worked 5 or 6 hours. So there was major time for walking, reading, daydreaming, staring out the window daydreaming, finding cafe's or pubs in the sunshine for drinking and daydreaming and then again, more staring out windows. The walking and daydreaming were hours well spent, and a wonderful pastime in order to appreciate Paris's wonderful architecture.

I have a large soft spot for Melbourne, and still claim it as my favourite city in the world. But I will confidently say that I think Paris is the most beautiful city I have seen, and wouldn't bother to argue with someone that it is possibly one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

Paris appears to only have one style of architecture in the inner city, which makes me curious as to when it was all built and how/why, for what must have many numerous years, did they only stick to this one style as designed by Mr. Haussman. For whatever reason it may have been, I think the continuation, the repetition of these buildings on such a grand scale is what makes it so impressive. Add in the thousands of monuments, statues and gold plated figurines, plus the steeples, gargoyles and stained glassed windows amidst the gardens, fountains and stone-cobbled streets and you are greeted with one gorgeous city. Set this portrait of wonder in clear blue skies crisscrossed white from the cross-european fights, late night activities and temperatures of 35plus and one can only conclude that living is indeed easy in Paris.