For a long time, you thought the walls were rigid. Hard concrete. Grey. With some yellow patches. Covered with scratches and inscriptions. Some that only a really tall man would reach. Some men are giants you thought when you first entered your new home. Then you realised that they were probably standing on the narrow stool. The men before you. Some writings in languages you do not know. The fact that there are so many languages you do not know gives you comfort. You are well learned and well-travelled.  But there is a big world out there. Outside those six walls. 

Have you ever pushed the door of a store, driven by the nearly magnetic attraction of a name or visual on the front window? I have, many times, often to be disappointed by what I discovered once inside. 

There was this one time though were I entered a small  narrow shop called Serendipity in a sleepy village in Cornwall where I had rented a B&B.

It all started with a misunderstanding. Zara agreed to meet me at the bottom of the stairs of the Paris Opera, and I waited for 30 minutes at the bottom of the stairs of the Paris Opera.

Except that my sister Zara meant the old Paris Opera and I understood the new Paris Opera, also called the Opera Bastille. Technically I was right of course. The old Opera house has been converted into the home of the national ballet and replaced by the new Opera...