Paris

There’s been a new addition to my commute, outside the Le Guichet train station.  Although Not Safe For Grandparents or Work, unless you work in France, you can see it here.  It’s an ad for Votre Beaute, which I think is some sort of  magazine to help women feel bad about themselves.

The climb to work is going well so far, there’s a steady stream of people going up to the Plateau every morning from the train.  The French have always been solid climbers, from René Pottier to Richard Virenque.  The important part of any mountain-top finish is to make sure you don’t get dropped along the way, and in fact most mornings I’ve surprisingly held with the lead group to the top, Wiggo-style.

I’m actually really enjoying the walk up to work in the morning.  By the time I arrive I’m awake and I feel like I’m getting some exercise.  The only frustrating part of the climb is once the little group of les grimpeurs reaches the top, all the French immediately start smoking cigarettes.  I can barely catch my breath and they’re all smoking.

What’s with these people and smoking?  Whatever, I’m totally going for the polka-dot jersey of the morning commute.