Where in the world is TCW? (2)

I've been thinking about this city of late.

It's been quite a while since I visited and I wouldn't mind going back sometime soon.

Even if the French are rude to us Brits.

Even if they charge ridiculous prices.

Even if they insist on having wierd toilet habits.

I once saw someone take a dump on the metro platform, calmly wipe and walk away.

Really. First person to say "no s**t!" gets booted.

Extreme behaviour but, even so, I'm not convinced by some of their toilet facilities.

When I was there in the 80s, they'd installed a number of automated toilet units, kind of like a lavatorial Tardis. You'd go in, the door would shut behind you and you'd be cocooned. Piped music, the toilet would autoflush and clean. All very good.

Until you notice the soundtrack is Thriller.

And the soundtrack is sounding a little warped.

And the toilet won't stop flushing.

And the door won't open.

And you're feeling a little claustrophobic.

And you need to get rescued.

Suddenly, the hole in the ground business makes a great deal of sense.

Do I really want to go back?

A pain chocolat and coffee on the bustling Champs Elysee with a background murmur of one of the most beautiful sounding lanuages in the world?

You betcha.