HOW TO FALL OFF A DECKCHAIR WHEN AWAKE

Gioia somehow mastered the art of falling off the deckchair, and i don't mean getting tangled up between the wood and the fabric, I mean literally collapsing. She even managed to sit on the bedhead and flip that over... Needless to say that I was thankful she spent most of her time asleep in the same position!

In Montalto di Castro Marina, I had the great joy of meeting Manuel from Fautly Towers. He was the best waiter I have had in a long long time and came very near to running around the room with a chicken stuck to his foot. Shame I won't be returning to Maremma Mare (who came up with that name?!) anytime soon.


Tuscany looks like this at the moment. A little bit burnt out - like me?!


On the way there, we passed San Casciano dei Bagni - the place where the thermal baths are.

HELLO WORLD!

As I prepare to go to Montalto di Castro Marina on a minibreak with Gioia, I wanted to share with you that last night i nearly fell off my chair as Mr Walter Nudo walked by our table on Piazza Baldelli. You foreigners will not be familiar with this fellow's nude calendars - so you should go and google right now! Good job I was sitting there with Doctor Benjy Boodles and his future wife, so I had to behave (slightly) and not go running after him :)

After Gerard Depardieu and Dame Judy Dench, I am now starstruck!


That is WITH his kit on!!!

WHAT THE FRENCH HAVE OR LACK

The French have this thing with phallic symbols and Carte Bleu. It's surely all about frenchness. Everyone should have either or both. And that's it.

The average tourist is not French, but still has to brandish a Carte Bleu to pay for a RER ticket from the international airport to town -- mais non, you can also pay 8.40 Euro, in coins only, mais oui, a feasible option indeed if you are not travelling light (and you can "oublier" the visa/mastercard/amex).

On the first point, from stating the obvious (Tour Eiffel) to the more subtle (all the poles that line every single street in the capital), there is clearly a point that the Parisien are trying to make, and I am not going to go back to the toilet dispensers mentioned earlier...

(...)

Excitement for the day:

I walked on a gherkin...

here is the team - during team dinner on Saturday, at Le Reconfort (ohhh how appropriate) on Rue Poitou, dans le 3eme!


Nicole and Stefan.


Reem and Anders.


A view of Paris - from the Centre Pompidou.


Angeles and Xenya.

UN ATTACCO DI...

Panico?
Fame?
Muffa?

... and you get ten points if you can figure out what I smell of.

I am currently impregnated all the way down to my undies. Even my socks honk of mold rather than sweaty feet (too cold to sweat). But the French have taken their obsession with bleu de bresse one step too far. From the chairs to the curtains, the plenary to the toilet, there is no escaping, UNESCO is rotting and I am with it.

The highlight of this morning was sitting on a soggy chair in the conference room. I am now wondering if one of the delegates relaxed so much that their bladder gave way.

Maybe today I reek of mold and urine combined?!


Paris as seen on the way back from the conference. Pic taken by Anders!

LA BANLIEUE C'EST PAS ROSE!!

And in fact the whole of Paris is rather grey and drizzly... so we had to FORCE ourselves to do the sales!!

After that, the twelfth meeting of the Subsidiary Body on Scientific, Technical and Technological Advice (SBSTTA 12) to the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) -- che?! -- started and I have since been wondering why the French prefer to have no soap (or dense liquid stuff coming from the hot tap) but plenty of condom vending machines in the toilets, and hot chocolate in lieu of cappuccino in the drinks machine?!

Sais pas moi...



Gangsters at the metro exit.


France Telecom antenna.


The girls with some French woman.