Just when things had calmed down and I thought I had my life under control again Wednesday happened.

Until then my plan for the rest of the year had been simple. A week in Merseyside, a week in Edinburgh then back to Paris until the end of the year with a trip to Bruges and Amsterdam thrown in for good measure. Flights booked, accommodation paid for, everything done, all I needed to do was relax and enjoy my time off.

Then while walking around Chester my phone rings.Its my boss in Paris.

James: “Hey Marc, are you drinking?”
Me: “No mate, just walking about town”
James: “Well, you`ll want to start drinking soon, I`ve got some bad news for you”
Me: “Go on then…..”
James: “A**** have pulled the plug on funding and are asking everyone in Paris to return to California immediately”

Cue my hissy fit and much stamping of feet, moaning and complaining and generally setting me in a bad mood all day.

My strop lasted all day. I even carried my mood with me into the pub when I started chatting to the people on the table next to me. I explained the whole ting and the guy looked at me, put down his pint and said:

“So let me get this straight, you`re moaning because you have to leave here and go back to work in Southern California until the end of the year instead of going to Paris?”

Someone walked into the saloon where I was drinking at the time and the icy wind hit me full in the face.

Then reality hit me. Was I really complaining about having to go back to the OC for the winter? Jeez, things could be a lot worse, at least I still had a job.

I wonder what I`ll complain about next. Perhaps I`ll complain that my diamond slippers at too tight.

Anyway, its all irrelevant now. Later on in the pub I got a call from my boss saying things had gone back to Plan A and I was in Paris for the rest of the year after all.

Life in the fast lane…… rock ‘n’ roll.

At the start of this week my plans for the remainder of this year were simple. Leave Paris for Liverpool this Saturday. Stay with my parents for a week, then head up to Edinburgh and Aberdeen for another week and then head back over to Paris for the night before Flying back to California ………. breath ………. stay in California for 3 weeks then fly back to Paris for the rest of the year.

See … simple.

Now my company wants to change all that.

They want me to come back to Paris after my trip to the UK, and stay in Paris until the end of the year, without returning to California.

Surely thats less complicated huh? Well I thought so too until I started trying to change my flights. I phoned DELTA airlines to push back my return flight from 10th November until 4th January, expecting to have to pay a nominal fee.

Instead they quoted me a phenomenal fee.

1600 dollars to move a flight back a couple of months.

Convinced there must be better options I start looking at other airlines to book a brand new single trip flight.

British Airways - 849 pounds.
Virgin Atlantic - 849 pounds
New Zealand airlines - 860 pounds
DELTA - 2000 dollars

I checked them all. Every single carrier cost well over 800 pounds for a single trip from London to LAX on 4th January 2009.

Then, more or less by accident I tried the same flight, but with a return flight on 28th January.

The results were surprising. Remember are prices for exactly the same outbound flight as above, but with a return flight booked for some random day in the future:

British Airways - 430 pounds.
Virgin Atlantic - 397 pounds
New Zealand airlines - 430 pounds

Seriously. Try it yourself if you dont believe me. None of this makes any sense. This of course means I`ll be buying a round trip ticket and I have absolutely no intention whatsoever of using the return leg.

So if any of you fancy a flight from LAX to London at some point in January just let me know, I`ve a free ticket.

Well more precisely I have a ticket that cost me minus 400 pounds.

Last weekend my parents flew over to Paris from Liverpool’s John Lennon airport. Getting the pair of them over to the French capital was something of a miracle. My dad has a fear of flying and suffers from claustrophobia, so getting on a small plane is just about the worst thing he could do. My mother has no such problems, but has an inherent dislike of the French bordering on the extreme.

So to exorcise my mum’s French daemons I spent the whole weekend taking them around all of Paris’ major sightseeing attractions:

First up was a climb to the top of Notre Dame and an up close view of the gargoyles

Next up was the Louvre, which too it seems has gargoyles:

Then the day after, after some much needed recovery in the Parisian bars was the big one, the Eiffel Tower itself:

Where you can get a pretty darn good view of the whole of Paris:

Which just left the trip to the top of the Arc de Triomphe:

So after walking up more than a thousand steps all weekend I`m refusing to climb up any more this coming one when my best mate arrives in town with his girlfriend Sandra…

which is why I`m taking them underground to the Catacombs

Last night I left the pub after a feeeeew ales and set off back to my apartment. Along the way a nice young French lady stopped me in the street and asked, in French of course, if she might buy some cigarettes from me.

I replied in fluent french of course.

Fluent french that is after a few beers.

So intead of saying ‘Je suis désolé je ne suis pas un fumeur’ - I am sorry I am not a smoker, I got my tenses a little muddled and came out with the classic line:

‘Je suis désolé je ne suis pas fumé’ - which literally means, ‘I am sorry, I am not smoked’.

I felt I deserved the applause I received from her and her friends.

I suggest you all try and get that sentence in as often as possible into every day conversation.

On the upside I am delighted with my apartment in Paris. Its less than 5 mins walk to the Seine and a view of Notre Dame and only 10 minutes walk to the entrance of the Louvre.

The place itself is also very nice indeed.

My Front door:

The upstairs living room:

Dining room and spiral staircase to ‘the cave’

The Bat-hroom

I`m quite sure the place is haunted too. I keep hearing footsteps in the night going up and down the staircase. Well its either ghosts or French locals just waiting to hear what pearly words of wisdom I`ll come out with next.

In a little more than 24 hours I`ll be on my way over to LA international airport and boarding an Air France Flight direct to Paris Charles de Galle.

I`m going to be out of California for nearly 6 weeks, which reminds me I should really try and empty out my fridge….

As always when in Paris I`m staying at one of the apartments offered by the nice folk at Parisian Flat.

This time, and at my own request, I`m staying in a duplex apartment built in 1595 for Henry IV called Rue Dauphine.

And I`m taking my Batman t-shirt with me.

Because the lower floor of the apartment is a vaulted cellar with stone walls.

Just like a cave.

All I need now is a cape……