Last week I went to Paris and fully intended to come back full to the brim of classical French existential pondering. However, the direction of my thoughts went elsewhere. I went to Paris and stood on the corner of the St Germain, waiting for a flummoxed Parisien to take me to the finest French Restaurant he knew, he knew none but suggested 'I do know a really great Japanese place nearby?' I discovered the hot new cafes in Paris were English run, I ended up going to the talking point gig in town which was Icelandic and the most popular exhibition which was American.
