My jealousy of the French has already begun. Specifically, of those in their teen years living in or just outside of Paris; and here is why:
It’s a little hard to read, but the sign on that building says “Lycée Charlemagne.” Lycée means high school. I obviously can’t speak for everyone, but my high school was a brick building from the 60s with a giant red Native American on its front side.
I am grateful, however—now that I will get to live here for four months and see buildings like that “Lycée” everyday, or streets such as the one below.
I went to my first créperie today. We have a solid two hours to eat lunch so a few other students and myself went to a small bistro in a tight alley that was a 20-minute walk (at most) from the Foyer International des Étudiants.
I ordered a crépe with an egg on top of it for lunch, as well as a café crème. Café crème is the modern term; café au lait just isn’t in fashion anymore. The lunch cost about nine euro, which isn’t bad, but it’s not too cheap either.
Indulgence isn’t necessarily a bad thing…
Avoid Clichés 