Day 752 (Sunday) 30^th June 2019

What a bloody day – it’s stinking hot and we had to clean two apartments with a check-in and a check in both! Huw dropped me off at Cactus Roc and the whinging Aussies were waiting for their taxi to the airport as they were flying to London. He then went down to the big apartment to let Trinny in and to see Freddy off. Of course Freddy wasn’t ready so he gave him until midday to get out as we have a check in at 4pm this afternoon. I made a start on Cactus Roc and was pleasantly surprised that they left it in a good state. Huw and Trinny joined me and we got the whole place done fairly quickly and painlessly. I love the view from up there but I wouldn’t want to walk back home every day!

The new guests arrived just 8 minutes before the last wash was finished so Huw went down to the other place and I did the check in while Trinny waited outside. The new guests are Mr. and Mrs. Bond and Huw was convinced that she is someone famous because she looks so familiar. They were really lovely people and loved the apartment and the view so hopefully they won’t be as demanding and as obnoxious as the Aussies. Trinny and I walked down to the other place and Huw arrived a few minutes later. Freddy was still there so we kicked him out and got on with it! It was very entertaining to see that they’d drunk three bottles of the ‘cheap shit’ champagne, so he’s obviously not that much of a connoisseur!

I was appalled when I saw the amount of washing that had to be done – there were three people for two nights and they’d used 11 towels – how and why? Hateful!

The rest of the place was left in a decent condition and when we finished we shared a bottle of ‘cheap shit’ champagne that he’d left in the fridge – not a bad end to a really tough day.

 Trinny’s mum picked her up and we went home on Kisbee taking away all the linen to be dried and all the recycling. We were home by 2pm and were expecting a 4pm check out so we pottered around waiting to hear from the new guests and sorted out all the linen. 4pm came and went so I sent a message to Jamie, the new manager, asking where they were. After waiting quite some time the new guest finally texted me to say that they were hoping to arrive at 8pm – we were not happy, to say the least! I sent him a message saying that we have to improve this checking in situation because we have lost a whole evening waiting around – the spineless git hasn’t replied! As this was a bit of a miserable day I will show you some photos of happier days.

I needed to do some photocopying for tomorrow and Badger decided to help

 and then the heat got too much for him

We are still waiting for the arrival of the new guests so I will let you know tomorrow how it went – the new guests are American so that ties in nicely with the types of Americans who live in France – here’s the next installment…

The Eternal American

This expat will never quite shed their American-ness, nor do they seem to want to. They definitely don’t blend in and it doesn't bother them. You know the type - you’ll see them heading to the supermarket in yoga pants and brightly-coloured running shoes, a Starbucks pumpkin-spiced latte in hand.

They always speak just a little too loudly, and if they speak French at all, it’s with a proud American accent. They need to frequently stock up on peanut butter and Kraft’s mac ’n cheese at the American grocery store in the Marais, or from a package from their mother.

The Paris-Obsessed

City of Love. City of Lights. In the eyes of a Paris-Obsessed, Paris can do no wrong. They often spout wistful romanticisms such as “Paris is most beautiful in the rain,” or “This is the best city to get lost in”. Their view of the city is that kind of idealized “Sex and the City” version of Paris.

They happily ignore the city's flaws to live in the glamourized movie version of the city. They probably live in Montmartre and imagine themselves to be in a Woody Allen movie as they stroll the cobble-stoned streets listening to Françoise Hardy. Don’t expect them to ever venture into La France Profonde (“Deep France”).