Never did I think that viennoiserie crumbs getting caught in my scarf would be such a regular occurrence. More than once, I have found myself walking down a cobblestone street with a pain au chocolat leaving half of its layers in the folds of my black pashmina.
Who would have thought that the lines at La Poste could be so long, so often? As a prolific letter writer, the lines don't quite dissuade me from sending my envelopes, but they come close.
The people who work at our local Saturday market are the friendliest ever. They give away free morsels with enthusiasm and make lovely conversation while preparing your crêpes. It's amazing to me that in the sea of people who descend on the market every week, vendors specifically remember particular customers.
I'm sure I'll discover many more unexpected perks and problems with Paris during my stay. And for those of you who are here for the recipes, I hope to get back to that soon, too.