Just when I thought I might be running low on new and interesting Parisian experiences, the universe delivered us a doozy.
Two weeks ago our apartment building caught on fire!
It's was 2am and I was up feeding Colette. Laying in bed we heard our neighbor making noise through the incredibly thin wall that separates our bedroom from his living room. He often makes noise around this time as the bars close at 2am and he is young, silly and unemployed so hearing him shout and stumble around on a Tuesday at 2am was par for the course. But that night we detected a hint of panic in his voice and heard him shouting about a fire... at that point we assumed he drunkenly burnt his toast and maybe accidentally caught his sleeve on fire so Greg pulled on his pants to go next-door to see if he could be of help.
As Gregoire entered the living room he saw smoke streaming into our apartment through the gap between the front door and the floor...which is fairly large given our building is
slowly sliding down hill. He touched the door and it was hot so he hurried back to the bedroom and informed us that it was more than toast that was on fire!
