Perhaps it's because I hardly ever use public transport that I have managed to miss two trains in succession. Still - the station's quite nice and I've got beer.

I've heard nothing from Jamie, so for all I know he's dead in a ditch somewhere. Still - I think it's safe to say a good idea would be to draw a big fat line under that whole incident.

You can take the girl out of Newbury, but you can't take Newbury out of the girl.

Paris has been fab. I checked out yesterday morning and took a Metro to Jeremy's house for breakfast, film watching (Serial Mom - very good) and lolloping. In the evening we drove into Paris and went wandering - we were supposed to shop but my heart wasn't in it - before meeting up with some of Jeremy's friends and drinking, drinking, drinking, eating, and drinking. More.

It would appear my "I'm sorry, I don't speak French" attitude to those I wish to ignore doesn't work. Wandering down Rue des Archives, someone drunken stumbled over and asked me for money in French. Thinking I could deal with this diplomatically, I told him in my best RP voice that I didn't speak French. Undeterred, he then proceeded to pursue me in English (oops) so I had to resort to being rude and doing the hand gesture thing.

The meal was good and I touched on Absolutely Fabulous (because of Absolument Fabuleux), French and Saunders and Bagpuss. I didn't manage a translation for "The Amazing Mechanical Mouse Organ" getting only as far as "L'incroyable orgue a mécanique des souris" - which lost something in translation. Even my attempts to further explain by singing squeakily "We will fix it, we will mend it, we will make it work again" fell on blank faces. No culture, the French. Clearly!

I've been offered a job in Paris in September. It's nowt exciting, and nothing like I do now, but it would get me in Paris for two weeks with money to spend on gin. Which would be nice.

1402 is the next train. I shall not miss it.

Au Vieux Chataignier

Hurrah! Public transport encounter successful! Philip picked me up at the station and we headed home via Cussac.

Topless boys in tennis court next to supermarket. Grrr.

We've won the cricket, or something. Once Philip was done smugging, he cooked a glorious roast chicken and we had a fabulously pleasant evening together nattering about all sorts.

Jon has assured me Jamie got home in one piece. I'm annoyed he didn't think to tell me he was alright, but never mind. Oh well.