#7 year itch song full

I had been to my friend’s apartment three years ago, but not from this direction. It was almost something to rival our typhoons in the Philippines! “So much for a hot and sunny August in Paris,” I had thought at the time.Īnd so when I finally exited from the depths of the Metro, I looked around, blinking in the sunlight, and found I was standing in exactly the same spot as the person who shot the video! You could never have guessed at the torrential rain only three days before. Two days before I arrived, I saw this video of rain cascading down some steps in Paris this past weekend. (This was a traumatic event from the Ghost of Paris Past that I have never quite gotten over.) I was thankful for this as it meant I did not have to deal with a grumpy cashier who refused to understand my frightened request in bad French for a “ carnet” (book of 10 tickets) – when the only two things she sold were single tickets and carnets. The only thing that has changed is the automatic ticket machines. The last time I really used the Metro was about 15 years ago and it hasn’t changed at all: the same plastic seating, the same graffiti covered walls, and possibly even the same trains. I decided to brave the Metro, but with three different trains to get there, it would have been almost as quick to walk.

#7 year itch song full

It is wonderful calming color and the combination with wrought iron balconies and slate rooftops is just beautiful.įor my first full day in Paris, I headed to Montmatre in the north of Paris to visit an old friend. Parisian buildings have this beautiful creamy- peachy color to them, especially at the time I seem to do most of my wandering – late afternoon. I wander around Paris like an idiot, mouth wide open, usually in a big grin, staring up at the buildings all around me. But having lived out of Europe for 20 years now, I now know how they feel. For my first few years I was quite scathing of Americans and their amazement when they saw a building over 100 years old. I grew up in Europe and moved to America when I was 21. That brings me onto the one overwhelming feature of my walk-around, the thing that remains constant wherever I look, without fail so far: the beautiful architecture. And lots of little dogs wearing tiny bandanas and sparkly collars. Bars overflowing with gorgeous young studs and not so gorgeous older men sporting shaved heads, goatees and leather waistcoats. Being (virtually) a native San Franciscan, I am no stranger to this scene and it brought a big smile to my face. One block with plenty of Hacidic Jews in full regalia (must be hot…) and shop after shop stocked with Hanukkah menorahs and Stars of David. This photo didn’t come out as planned as I was trying to be stealthy, but there is a huddle of young-uns on the RHS of the photo.Īdjacent to Falafel Road.