Monsieur Fixit et la barbe de feu

One of the hardest things about adjusting to life in France was learning the spots. I mean, it’s quite obvious where to go if you want a crepe, wine, any type of fromage or some cigs. But for example, what’s the French equivalent of Target? Does such a place exist? What about Franco-Bed, Bath & Beyond? Is that out there somewhere? Sometimes I’d consult Google, sometimes ask neighbors, and other times just give up in frustration and scour Amazon.fr.

But when I moved into my Paris apartment, the tiles on the wall of our bathroom were a hideous leaf and flower motif that was shameful to the eyes. Driven by their fugliness, I searched far and wide, and successfully discovered French Home Depot. Its name: Castorama. It was located right near the Eiffel tower, so Max and I metro-ed over and scurried inside. We found some pleasant gray tile paint, a new bathroom rug, and all sorts of other goodies that one might impulse buy at a French Home Depot.

And when we got up to the front, behold! A handsome, hardworking redbeard running the checkout line. It was truly a great day. He scanned all the items we needed to make our bathroom better, and furrowed his brow in concentration. He seemed like a catch, this one. So if any of you reading this find yourself in Paris, make your way to the Castorama near metro Bir Hakeim, and snag this bearded gem. Oh and here’s a bonus shot of my bathroom, post tile paint. So much betta.