Getting to know the Asylum

Once again, I'm back, and I've got the rest of the Bergerac in my Wine Expo glass. Oh yeah, that's right. Wine expo glass. Is that this entry?

Well, no, it's not. This entry is on Combs-la-Ville, but I figured I'd give a shout out to a future entry to sorta make sure that I don't forget it. So, without further ado, let's talk about where I live.

I live in a little town/banlieue called Combs-la-Ville (Aside: To any Combs-la-Ville officials who want to pay me to be their official blogger during my time here, I'll take the case.), which is located about 30 minutes south of Gare de Lyon on the RER D. It's out in Zone 5, and a lot of people, even in Paris, haven't necessarily heard of it. Honestly, rightly so- it's not like Orly or EuroDisney or Roissy, which have landmarks that make them somewhat memorable. Supposedly Combs has an old village that it was built around, but I haven't quite found that one yet.

Anyhoo, SLIDESHOW TIME!

Actually no. Let's just find some decent pictures. Not too many. I don't want this to become "OH LOOK AT ROB'S FISHING TRIP TO PODUNKTOWN! HE SURE CAUGHT A WHOLE LOT OF NOTHING." That would be unfortunate.

Still, it'll probably happen. Here's hoping for walleye.

Wow that was a terrible joke. Let's just go to the photos and avoid more of this, shall we?

Yes, we shall.

Anyway, to start off, here's the kitchen where I work! Bev seems to be a believer in feng shui, but based on this picture, you may get the idea that she's not too solid at the practice yet. I... would tend to agree. Admittedly this is with the laundry rack hanging, but it's still not a bad idea of the space you've got to work with. Still, it's better equipped than a lot of my Parisian friends' kitchens.

I HAVE HEARD THE WHISPERED TALES OF IMMORTALITY. BLAH BLAH BLAH FROM AN ANCIENT BOOK I TOOK A CLUE.

Sorry, listening to Xanadu by Rush. Wonderfully light. But yes, it's well equipped kitchen, though it's sometimes interesting to reheat food- no microwave (not unusual) and very few saucepans with which to reheat my meals at times. Usually there's at least one though, so it works out. Anyhoo, enough of my culinary habitation- you get enough of that on the regalia posts.

This is a bit of graffiti on a concrete thing on a field near where I live. It gave the blog the rest of its name, because I thought that was a pretty clever play on words (Combs L'Asil or Combs the Asylum for the Frenchly-challenged), probably influenced by the fact that I was reading The Stranger in French at the time, wherein Camus uses "l'asile" for the home in which Meursault's mother lived. No, I won't call that spoilers because the book freaking starts with "Maman died today." OH NOES I SPOILED THE FIRST LINE.

Anyway, enough of that rant. Sweet lensflare, right? I'm sure we only really need that one picture of that block, right? No way it would become a running theme for the seasons or anything, right?

Right?

Yeah, you wish, wacky internal dialogue. Here's a picture of that same wall in the snow. Snow hasn't been too thick here yet (maybe a few inches and all, so a lot for the South, from where I hail, but not much for reasonable folk who have seen this strange white downpour from the sky. Usually it's been gray and cold with some sort of precipitation, be it mist or rain or blizzarding (but more on that later). Of course, that's basically the expected weather in this part of France for this time of year, so I mean, it works out decently, right?

Wait. No. No it doesn't. It just means I'm near Paris with mediocre weather, but THAT works out okay, because hey, Paris. Yeah, there should be another comma there. I apologize to my various relatives with degrees in English.

Still, there are some pretty decent parts of Combs. It just took me about a month to wander enough to find them, which is a shame. I mean, this street is on the main drag where there are a lot of the classically French shops- there's even a square with a boucherie and poissonnerie, which I didn't think would be around here until I found them. I still need to make it to these places- I tend to stick with the really cheap supermarkets, but it's a new year, so I might as well give it a shot, right? Aside from the fact that they were closed today, so I'll have to wait until soon to start shopping there.

Yeah. Look at that snow. One day, it just started to really come down, so I took the logical step and walked outside (bundled as best as I could muster) and took pictures rather than staying in the (somewhat) warm inside.of the house. About 10 minutes out of the house and I couldn't see anything out of my glasses thanks to snow accumulation. Yeah. It was ridiculous. Of course, you can't see much of the flakes there. But I'll see if I posted a picture with better pictures (and by posted I mean here, because I tend to post all the pictures and then write, and I can't remember just yet).

Oh yeah, that's right. I didn't put any sort of logical chronology here. So yeah, I was actually really surprised to find this view off the main drag- it proves that there are actually NICE parts of Combs. Admittedly, I discovered today that a lot of them have more or less guard dogs, which is annoying when you're just trying to walk around out there. But that's just off a few side streets. And I guess that with the reputation what Parisian banlieues have (that's right, I used "what" like an old fogey), that's not too unreasonable. Still annoying to get barked at constantly.

Of course, I don't live anywhere that nice. In fact, I live in an HLM (Habitation à Loyer Modéré, AKA Projects). I didn't actually know this until a few weeks in- it's not a bad setup for me, honestly. I've got my room (which I really should clean sometime, but probably not tonight because I need to get some sleep somewhat soon), a kitchen with an oven, and Internet access. So what if Bev and Bev Jr (for whom I'll remember a clever name eventually) yell a fair bit? It's funny to hear them try to yell via whispers when Í'm trying to sleep.

And now we're back to the snow. Hooray! You can actually sorta see the snowflakes if you squint. This is actually the streeet I live on, AKA The Road of The Sulky Frigate, which would be a great song title or band name (patent pending). Yeah, it's a bit of a walk to a bus station, but nothing too unreasonable. Heck, getting to the train station is just 20 or 30 minutes walking, which seems like not too bad for a suburb. Plus, I get some exercise (that I don't necessarily want after a night out at bars) when the buses aren't running. And it's sorta pretty with all that strange white blasphemy coming down.

As for the rest of Combs, well. I did initially ask my landlady if the area was safe. Her response was that of course it was! And honestly, she hasn't been too wrong- I don't feel too unsafe walking home early in the morning, though I do tend to make sure no one's following me or anything anyway- heck, I did that in Davidson. Still, the past few weeks have left me a bit more doubtful. For example, there's this, which is the charred remains of a motorcycle/dirtbike/scooter/something on two wheels with a motor, right by a playground on the way to my bus stop. Not sure what happened, but it seemed worth a picture. Then, when I got back from Munich, I found that the Société Générale branch near where I live (which gave me a lot of trouble for opening an account, which is why I went elsewhere) had gotten broken into. As in, the glass pane on the door was shattered and it looked like maaybe some arson had occurred. I didn't take too close of a look, especially since now there's a guard dog chained to the door. I'll try to get a picture of that over the next few days maybe.

Anyway, I think that works as an update for Combs for now. Gives an idea of the scenery and all that. Not a terrible place, and though a bit sketchy in some places, there's still bits I need to explore a bit further. I also need to get a damned library card so I can start reading. I've got only a few books, and I've read through most of them already. Even A Wrinkle in Time, which I thought was extremely overrated and just poorly written. But I shouldn't end the blog on that sort of negativity, right?

Right.

I'm sure Madeleine L'Engle has many redeeming qualities.

And Bev Jr. just walked in. I suppose I should brace myself for the shouting soon.

Ah, family life.