You know you're in Paris when...

Yes, we (Meredith, Thayer and myself) have made it safely to Paris.  I was last here for a short stint in March, but as a traveller, teacher, and guide; I stayed in a hotel and mostly escorted my students around the city.

Now we are here for 10 weeks and living in an apartment, just getting established takes more time than the average American (if there is such a thing) might imagine.

The smoking:  So much more of it here.  Everywhere that it's allowed, and some places where it's not.  And there are not restrictions about how far away from a building entrance you must be in order to smoke, so right outside the door of many places (notably, the airport) are smoke-a-riffic.

The special house key: you do not ever want to lose a French key.  The replacement will cost you a fortune.

The code:  So you can literally get in the front door.  Many, if not most, French apartments are *not* equipped with a buzzer system, or with a front door key, so knowing the code is essential.  And you have to remember to ask for the code when you're visiting someone's home.  And how to get to their apartment, since they are generally not numbered.

The stairs:  There are always stairs.  There are frequently not elevators, as the 19th century redevelopment of Paris took place just prior to the invention of the elevator.  Some buildings have remarkable retro-fitted elevators; ours does not.  We are on the 4th floor, which would be the 5th floor at home.  5 flights every time (I've done them just once today, so far, but have at least one more trip planned for later).  Who needs a StairMaster?

The cell phone:  Iphones are proprietary, courtesy of France Telecom, a.k.a. Orange.  I bought a chip (une puce) for 15 euros that activated the phone and gave me a few minutes of outgoing calls.  Incoming calls are unlimited, like an American landline, so having the phone helps a great dea.

The toilet paper:  Default color is pink.  Vive la France!