New apartment, new city, new departement. We are now living in Pantin, right on the Canal de l'Ourq and not very far from the Périphérique and Paris. A fancy, brand-new apartment in the infamous 93, in the north-east of Paris right next to my former ultimate and triathlon club's home towns. Well-known territory. We pay 1 650 € for a decent 65 m² fourth floor apartment with two large balconies. We now only need to recover a decent security deposit from some crazy, law-ignoring lady, who almost became our landlord for another apartment, from which we pulled out last second. Paris is a crazy place to rent, tons of laws and even more law-bending and even law-breaking practice is required to get hold of a place here, highly unhealthy. Not to say toxic. And definitely no good.
Three weeks in Paris done, three weeks at Deezer worked. Besides the truly bad air I actually like a lot what I see: a huge but familiar city, with loads of summer in it. More bicycles and bike lanes than ever, crowded quais—not by cars but people. Inspiring colleagues, all the default upsides that come with employment in France (horray, Ticket Restaurant are back), and a decent paycheck at the end of the month. And obviously most importanly: a bunch of old friends that I can now regulary catch up with. If, and only if, that air pollution problem wouldn't be so serious.
Anyway, today I took Max to the top of the Eiffel tower—two weeks without Myriam now draw to a close. Soon our all-male household will be put back on track. The same thing eventually might happen to my dream to finally get a serious race bike, my Grüner Pfeil™ is getting old and deserves a timely retirement. Too bad that this beauty of a Focus is already sold out, I'll have to fall in love with another bike now. Tomorrow more cycling, and more fine particular matter swallowing (I just can't ignore this, it's atrocious).
At Deezer, second week. What a warm welcome, and what a nice team. I felt at home and at ease from day one, and am very much looking forward to spending a great time here. Max is in Germany, the Tour is in its last week and the canicule is back in Paris. We might have found an apartment to rent, air pollution is still a massive bummer, and the first weekend at Maupertuis is already spent. Back to old habits, the new way. Now rolling with my Red Arrow™ through Paris' streets from our temporary but startling apartment at Bastille, and listening to more music then ever. Back to work.
It's Tour de France, it's 100 years Maillot Jaune. It's time to show my son (and my dad) what it means to see a stage live, I mean in real life. Today we drove all the way on beautiful N6 to Chalon-sur-Saône, a two-hour ride right into the final of this year's stage 7. We had our bicycles to move fast, and avoid the traffic. And we had time, because that's all you need for the Tour de France. Watching the Tour de France live basically means waiting. And more waiting. And waiting even more. I'm glad that tired and hungry Max managed to wait until the riders flew by for a couple of seconds, right on the Quai and exactly 75 meters before the finish line. Doing a sprint stage right at the arrival isn't ideal, but when you drive 4 hours to see it then you also want that screen that you only get close to the finish line. That screen actually broke down about 20 minutes before the finish, making it a true analog experience... which has its charm as well. Next time I'd like to just spend the day somewhere nowhere along the road, similar to what we did in 2013 on the Col de la Madelaine, and have the circus come to you rather then the other way around. Adam, it's time for you to return to France to make this happen asap!
(Internet is) Back in the country! Beautiful summer, construction work with Dad and helper Max, and Tour de France—it's the best time to be in our cottage. Work on improving the house advances, slowly but surely. Electricity and plastering works are on this week's menu, accompanied by the Tour de France on Eurosport through my mobile satelite kit. Friday we're going to head to Chalon-sur-Saône to see the thing in real life, it'll be dad's and Max's first Tour de France stage ever. Big up to Free for an almost instantly reconnecting my line and sending the Freebox Crystal (as bland as Crystal Pepsi), suddenly making this place feel less remote. Which is good and bad.