Shants in France

I've been in the UK for just under a week and I think I've adjusted to all the fluent English spoken around me. In that short time period I've spent hours at Primark, bought a wand from the Harry Potter gift store, seen Hagrid's cottage, drunk butterbeer, visited Windsor Castle, worn Barbie socks, eaten my first Yorkshire pudding and enjoyed roasted water buffalo. 2014 has definitely started on a high note. Give it a week, the English chatter will be gone, I'll be in Marrakech and then counting down my final month in Europe. The end is nigh but the ride has been amazing and nap-worthy.

Until next time

Following my post, here are some photos to go along with it

In other news, I bought 30 postcards and, funnily enough, 30 stamps. If anyone receives a card with a lipstick smooch and 'Love from Paris' on it, please know that you were last.

It's been over a week since I moved into my apartment and I've learned many things in that time. 1. You can't be overdressed for uni in Paris 2. Peanut butter is a very important American staple 3. Giant macaroons should be standardised 4. French music festivals are very chilled out 5. The French feel no need to adopt the proper use of 'macchiato' 6. Sour cream is overrated I suppose a lot has happened but the highlights thus far have been the Eminem concert, the Rock en Seine music festival and the discovery of 1664 Blanche. That lemony twist at the end of the sip really makes it. Also, potential highlight: I ordered in Italian at our local pizza place and even had myself a little conversation. This is a double highlight as, personal insight, apparently I feel more comfortable speaking languages outside of their designated country. Who knew?

Today I move in to my apartment! It is also the day Momo booked her flight to visit so there is a lot that has made me excited this morning. The only thing that has paused this joy is the giant horse hound I just saw as I looked up through the window of the hostel... Sweet merciful! Oh the French and their hounds.. I just remembered that last night I booked my ticket to see Eminem on Thursday! Excitement refocused! My housemate Stephanie picks up the keys to our place at 2pm so I shall meet her there in a few hours. I'm sure I'll have an update in the evening, and photos. Until then!

Up top we have my Parisian sliders and the $4 long mac I had this morning at a food market in Copenhagen. I wish it was worth it. On the blackboard we see Laila's (Lorraine's) lovely message to me (Sharon) in their apartment and below we have the chocolate almond cake I made with love on my last night there. Even got the candle holder in there! It's spins!

Up top we have my Parisian sliders and the $4 long mac I had this morning at a food market in Copenhagen. I wish it was worth it. On the blackboard we see Laila's (Lorraine's) lovely message to me (Sharon) in their apartment and below we have the chocolate almond cake I made with love on my last night there. Even got the candle holder in there! It's spins!

Today I left Copenhagen, I wouldn't say unwillingly but I wouldn't say willingly either. Yep, I'm in Paris now and I'm THAT girl. The one who is, for some reason, not bothered about being in the city of lights. Let us speculate, oh that's right, I MOVE IN ON MONDAY! Spending a weekend alone will pass quickly but I do miss being around an apartment full of people. Let's be clear: I love Copenhagen. I had the best time and met some lovely people, and, let's be real: I discovered the snegl. A snail shaped pastry delight. I spent my last night in the country of Frederiks and Christians at a tunnel party. The other day it was a party on a metro. Find a microwave big enough and I'm sure they'd a Dane would sanction a party inside it. Don't get too excited, while the shell of the soirée is outside the box and indie as a Dane in Sweden, it's the same old sweat and smokers cough combination that fills the "room". The only thing different would be the spray paint fumes, I suppose. Perhaps take a pregnancy test before heading down to the next tunnel party. The city of Copenhagen is creative with its activities, and I appreciate that, but tunnels + me = a hot mess of confusion. PS music with words is sometimes nice, Denmark. Now in Paris, I'm sitting in the bar of my hostel eating sliders, drinking a cider and listening to Americans chat about how they meet Australians everywhere. Perhaps I won't introduce myself... Or the waiter from Karratha.. Who got their order wrong. Awks. Saturday night in Paris! Whoo! Can't wait to watch Grey's Anatomy on my iPad behind my bed curtain and dream of having an address.

A Danish Metro Party: Today is the day upon which I was supposed to go to Rome to meet a friend in Naples. Yesterday morning I received a Facebook message from her warning me to stay away as she found it to be hellish and unwelcoming beyond the point of salvation. It's hard not to follow her instructions when all of her text is in capital letters, something I should be used to but still read in a screaming voice in my head. We shall meet up somewhere later. Never fear. Instead of awaking at 4am and flying out, I slept in until 8:30, stayed in my PJs until 11:45 and didn't leave the apartment until it was time to hop on the metro for a party. So Danish. Not really. The last part was though. The last part is what I photographed.

Today we went to a Danish street festival, similar to the one on Beaufort Street at home in Perth but because festivities aren't such a rare treat here, it wasn't as big, but did have a similar vibe. The photos on the right as well as the one in the middle are of today. Please note that the top row of photos are so NOT Danish. From left (top & bottom) to right: we are eating Thai food. Not Danish. What IS Danish, however, is the price. AU$17 for pad Thai. Not gon' lie... Worth it. Down the bottom we have a bacon wrapped sausage with a relish type tomato sauce and mustard. The sausage was probz somewhere from Eastern Europe. At least, it would be if my Danish was better and I was able to verify that so, as it stands, it's Danish. Two things that make it Danish: I bought it from a street vender and it cost AU$7. Side note: the bun was sold separately. So Danish. Time for Lucy! Above we have a happy-go-lucky Australian with the briefcase of a Frenchman and a Danish beer in hand. Almost very Danish... Except this bitch be smilin'. Never fear, she got real Danish real quick with her trusty scowl. As you can see I did the same on the end but am on a train. I also made the choice to wear the national colour of black and wear a scarf. A scarf with images of bugs on it. Thanks, Top Shop. Alas, despite any effort I make, I will never be Danish. Peroxide blond would cause people to question why I thought it was ok to dress up as Halle Berry from X-Men for more than the duration of a costume party, as well as why I chose her specific portrayal rather than the original, I would assume. Lastly, in the middle we have Miss Lucy pointing with her eyes to the delightful gentleman in the cutoff denim shorts and a fringe of which I am jealous. This and the free coffee I scored from a retailer upon purchase because she happened to have an extra cup (very pricey, more so than Perth) pretty much summed up our afternoon. So Danish.

Giant seagull near pigeons in order to make comparisons, giant seagull near bikes and giant seagull on a light post Notice how giant seagull is alone. Most likely because it would eat all others who try to approach it. Birds are wary, especially after that whole "pelican eating a pigeon" incident in Hyde Park http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QNNl_uWmQXE&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DQNNl_uWmQXE

3 Things I've learnt in Copenhagen about Copenhagen: The metro trains are automatic The seagulls are the size of wombats (shout out to home, my first ever wombat reference) Getting smiled at is overrated. Let us address these items individually. 1: The metro. Lucy so kindly pointed out that some of the metro trains have no drivers. You can sit in the front of the train with a clear view of your track. A pessimist might say you can see your death coming towards you but how many people do we know who get hit by or crash on public transport vehicles that often? 2: Seagulls should have a standard size. Not too different from the carry-on luggage allowance on low cost airlines. Your dog shouldn't be scared of a seagull and, frankly, such a bird should fit on your plate. 3: I've learnt that to seemingly be lacking in emotion is very Danish. A death stare is a necessity for a people with hearts of gold to match their locks. I quite like this. Reaching the soft centre kind of makes you feel like you're in on the joke although no one is laughing, they're all too busy being stoic. Despite my vaguely racist tour guide, day 2 in Copenhagen was a success

Apparently Danish potatoes decompose faster than Australian ones? I came across this in Lucy's cupboard then grabbed the rubber gloves and opened the door to the rubbish chute as she dropped the hellish vegetables down to their explosive end. Not a real end, I suppose, someone will have to deal with it in the morning...