The Return

Ooh la la, c'est la préhistoire.

I was chirping this little rhyme as I cycled home this evening.

I think that travelling in Paris is barbaric at the best of times but since the transport strikes it's become a jungle.

The social order has broken down. There are throngs of pedestrians spilling onto the cycle paths. Serried ranks of cyclists bunch up and jump red lights en masse and what's playing out is a symphony of despair.

It was my first day in the midst of the mayhem and I have to say that certain roads weren't as busy as I'd expected.

I was primed this morning at the crèche. The director asked if I could help her out by keeping the boy at home on Tuesday because the teachers are on strike. One of the crèche assistants has got children in school and there's no one to look after them.

The other assistants can't make it because they live so far away..........and there's not much in the way of transport. So the ramifications come down and tweak my nose.

Ouch.