Ickier

This was our first serious day at "the office".  It's not a simple thing fitting out a bare boat with all the accoutrements that are required to make it habitable.

As Jacques was quick to point out, "in Metz is Ickier", less than an hour away in a tiny Renault and they have everything one would ever need on a "bateau respectable".   In truth, Jacques does not construct sentences in English in any way other than using perfect grammar, but without a stereotype I'd have to once again reflect on my own dearth of language skill, although the (presumably correct) phonetic pronunciation of the famous furniture chain would win acclaim in some quarters overseas.

The drive to Metz was sublime of course, through rolling Moselle countryside but we couldn't help but notice that we were travelling through the countryside, rather than as it is on the boat, gliding past.  A speed differential of 104 kilometres per hour is quite a noticeable one, and although we have almost a week before we get to do that, we are counting the days.

Two trolley loads, a hearty lunch and a battered credit card later, we have begun the process in earnest but there is more to do, and the paintings are still in Paris having their duty assessed.  

Paying tax on one's own work is going to hurt.  

I wonder what bureaucracy would be called if it hadn't been invented by the French?

Maybe we could get Ikea's product name team onto the job.