Escargots de Bourgogne debut

This time last year my brother pity that choose to spend their first holiday abroad in an expensive city, with cold and arrogant people, especially, NO SALSA. Needless to say I had a very bad opinion about "French people" which he sees as one of the most "unfriendly" in Europe.
And here salsa just made me a year later, my violates the principle of not exit out of the country if that does not involve any congress or festival. Paradoxically? cater Maybe. What could be more beautiful and exciting than 3 days the dance salsa continuously? Well ... simple: a week that salsa dance continuously, and a general level of insanity greater than that of a congress. But let us proceed to tell. Bus to Happiness
On the morning of Wednesday, August 12, we established at the airport. It was the first time since traveling abroad when I learned what it takes to fly from Aurel Vlaicu International Airport (Baneasa aka). I said "Bus to Happiness" that, going there, exactly what was the first impression that struck me. A motley cater crowd of strawberry pickers, painters, masons, with papornitele in back, naturally mix with young people like us who go on vacation with the low-cost.
Odors from the "dizzying" Fetz sunburned, scrimmage, cater whiny children, buzzing words, cater that dribbled from "do" s and here and there a curse. Some desks for check-in, a small waiting room full of people, airline offices, one checkpoint passports and boarding gates hall, as full of people. In Baneasa, cater planes waiting at a stone's throw after you boarded. You see the window of room boarding colored with pink, purple, blue, green, red, with websites written on them, and look like cartoon cater characters, and comic belly. cater I tried a little shudder remembering stories crashes, damage to the engine turns an hour flight, stories heard on the news or from others who have flown with the low-cost.
France's green the first thing that strikes you when the plane begins to descend, the last minutes cater before landing. When wool clouds flew over which you begin to dissipate, and fly over the endless stretch of forests, fields, meadows, dotted with small villages and towns including meandering roads, rivers and highways. Every time I choose the flight window seat, to get acquainted with the country going, even before landing. And from France I fell in love before they set foot on land.
Beauvais Airport is the French version of "Autogarii" our. So small, and yet a provincial air more quietly, in a small town 70 km from Paris. The plane leaves you right at the door of the airport, follow the road for an hour and a half by car to Paris, and here we are coming out of the last tunnel directly to the Elysée Palace.
Escargots de Bourgogne debut "Parisian experience" could not be other than "la cuisine francaise" (friends know why). So, first exit to the table on the terrace of the small restaurant with small tables, round, although others have ordered cater things "normal" I took the opportunity and began a series of experiments: escargots de Bourgogne - fancy name for what we I call simply snails. 6 snails in a clay pot, each immersed in his socket in a sauce with olive oil, herbs and garlic. Best of all.
Living like the French live What we really made the holiday special was that I had the opportunity to spend a different way than they would have spent some tourists used (ie hotel, restaurant, sightseeing, party and so) . I have seen and lived beyond the clichés of Paris guidebooks. Or, as one of the guys said before we got ... "Will cater you live like the French live". So begins the story with things you do not find in the tourist guide.
In Paris do not smoke in public places covered, but only on their terraces. In summer, every restaurant, bar, brasserie few tables spread its small round crammed into one another, on the sidewalk in front. It goes without cater saying that throughout the week we were not anywhere inside the table. But what strikes you is that when you ask for an ashtray, even on the terrace of a restaurant and pretentious, you are told, very natural, "Ah, but you do not need, you can throw away the ashes and cigarettes." That makes Paris a city that, although it would clean (did you see trash on the floor), is full of cigarette butts everywhere. On the street, on the terraces, into the clubs ... because everyone smokes outside. If you think to be civilized and looking to throw your cigarette in a trash can, well, you likely. Dustbins are actually cater sacks hanging from a metal frame (this is because, earlier, some "tourists willing"