The Paris Traveler

One doesn’t need an alarm clock to be woken up and told what time it is.  The walls are thin in my apartment and I can hear pretty much everything going on around me whether I want to or not.  Showers being taken, little kids whining about having to move quicker to get out the door for school–life as it is being lived here in Paris.   You wouldn’t necessarily hear all this if you were staying in a hotel which for some of you would be a plus and some, not so much.  The sounds of this morning included something new–the ringing of a bell.  One of those brass bells that you only hear these days at the Christmas holidays when people wearing white gloves play “Carol of the Bells” at church concerts–do you know what I am talking about?  Anyway,  the sound of this particular bell was coming closer to my building and as I looked out I saw the gentleman you see in the picture, the local knife sharpener, going up and down the streets, pushing his knife sharpening thing (what is it called?) looking for knives to sharpen.  I could not love this place more!

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