An Englishman’s home is his castle. A Parisian’s home on the other hand, is his fanciest shoe box.
It’s no secret that property prices in Paris are so high they’re almost funny, but more about the plus sides of living in an apartment where it’s barely possible to swing a mouse, coming in another post.
Since we’ve all got to know each other by now, I thought I’d share with you a few snapshots of my personal postage stamp of Paris, my beloved Granny Flat; where crocuses are grown, cockles are warmed, and creativity flourishes. Readers, this is where the magic happens.
My compact and bijou residence is lovingly referred to as ‘the Granny Flat’ since I moved into it after its former inhabitant, a 92 year-old French lady, had moved on to a retirement community.
Such a kind old lady she was, she generously left me a lot of her bits and bobs that she no longer needed, all in smashing nick, and gratefully received. But she had been living here for a while, and being surrounded by her considerate donations has given the flat a very vintage feel.
From a set of teeny tiny sherry glasses to an old-fashioned non-electronic carpet sweeper (Eddie Izzard fans will be more than familiar with these), a roll-out bidet-on-wheels and a charming chair for afternoon snoozes, I couldn’t be happier surrounded by artefacts from another Parisian experience lived, and hopefully loved.
I hope you enjoy a glimpse of my Parisian life, as much as I do living it!