national stereotypes

I've just got back from a very productive three day meeting in Paris. Just around the corner from where I was working, there was a marvelous cobbled street (Rue Mouffetard) lined with oodles of little speciality shops: boulangeries, patisseries, chocolatiers, butchers, fishmongers, fruit stalls, cafes, and, within less than 50 yards of each other, four fromageries.

The smell was amazing. (I think there were a few shops selling non-food items, too, but they didn't really register.)

Friday evening, I travelled back on the Eurostar, arrived punctually at St Pancras, crossed the road to Kings Cross, to be met with:

Home sweet home.