Etymology corner

The term 'cliché' Note to the Americans: the stress is on the FIRST syllable, not the second. Why not start pronouncing words properly? has its origins in France, as you might expect.

It comes from the era of hot metal printing, when words were literally typeset using metal letters a bit like those John Bull printing sets we all had when we were kids. As you can imagine, doing this is a bit of a pain in the arse when you're setting a whole newspaper. So the typesetters would, instead of constructing phrases that were very common from scratch each time, slide them off the racks whole, and keep them for the next time.

The actual word comes from the sound the sets of letters made when they were being slid off the racks.

Interesting, don't you think? What? Eh? Oh.

Yesterday I went, with the rest of my team at the agency, to Deauville - a once very chic resort on the Normandy coast. It still has a certain something actually.

We had a jolly nice meal by the seaside, marred only by the fact I really fancied some fruits de mer - but it wasn't really made clear which menu we were ordering from, I wasn't paying and I didn't want to take the piss. Eventually I chose the moules frites, only for Fred (my art director) to order exactly what I'd been fancying. Gah.

But for me the most interesting part of the day was that it was a real trip down memory lane. Deauville is just along the coast from Le Havre, which is a major French port and the place the ferries we used to get to go on holiday docked. Across the bay  could see the coast road from le Havre to the Pont de Tancarville over the Seine. Even though it must be more then 20 years since I was last there I could recognise every landmark. I don't know why the memories are so vivid. Probably because we were so excited and just soaked it all up.

Very exciting Parisian day on Sunday. Rollerblading in the morning, then a lovely lunch, followed by a look at the final stage of the Tour de France. Bunt to buggery (hot afternoon), but had a really nice time.

I like it here.

The office I work in in Paris is about two doors down from the main Louis Vuitton shop. When I arrived this morning (a little later than normal), I noticed there was a bit of a crowd on the pavement outside. For a moment I wondered if there was something going on in the window (like the human statues they used occasionally to have in Singapore), but just as I got to the door of my office, the doors opened and people filed inside.

I've seen queues outside the post office on giro day, and I've seen people waiting for the supermarket to open. But queueing to get into a luxury goods shop?

The Louis Vuitton shop here is quite an interesting place, actually. I've never been in, but its customers appear to be about 80% South East Asian and Japanese. Apparently they'll only let you buy two items at a time, and it's not uncommon for passers-by to be offered money to go into the shop and buy stuff on people's behalf.

I really don't get Louis Vuitton, because it always seems to me to have more than a hint of the emperor's new clothes about it. It seems that there are people who will give their right arm for LV stuff, but for what?

Overpriced, shit-brown luggage. That's what.

I go past this shop every couple of days, and there isn't a single thing I've ever seen in the window that has ever struck me as being nice. And why does something that's so expensive look so cheap?

It beats the hell out of me, that's for sure.

Refund news

Following my disastrous experience with Hertz as detailed below, I wrote them a stiff email telling them that this really wasn't the sort of service I expected from them.

I got a reply the other day full of apologies and including a USD50 refund, which I think is just about right. So well done them, and I hope this post redresses the balance.

Still won't be using them again in a hurry though.

It seems a lifetime ago, but cast your mind back three years. Sam and I were living in Stockholm, Isobel was an as-yet unnanounced lump in her Mummy's tummy, and we went over to the UK to tell everyone the good news.

My Dad lent me his car, so that we could drive down to the south coast and stay with Sam's sister and her boyfriend (the ones that now live 10 minutes away from us in Paris). We got ready to leave from Sam's parent house (they were in France at the time) in a bit of a hurry, and on the way down I realised I wasn't wearing my watch - which was a very nice one Sam had bought me for my birthday a couple of years previously.

I assumed I'd forgotten to put it on after doing the washing up or something, and didn't think too much about it. But when we got back it had simply disappeared.

The only concusion we could reach after hunting high and low for the watch was that one of us had accidentally picked it up and thrown it out with the rubbish. Which is one of those things that happens I guess.

I claimed for the watch on my travel insurance, bought another one that I don't like quite as much, and didn't think any more about it.

Until yesterday, when I called my Mum. My Dad had had a flat tyre, and had changed his wheel. Tucked under the carpet of his bot was... my watch. Still ticking and still in perfect order after the three years it had spent travelling round the UK.

I know it's not a fantastic story. but it made me smile.

The only problem now is, have I cheated the insurance company?

For those of you who need a bit of peace, tranquility and quiet, here's a lovely Flash game called Starry Night that you can play.

It's just one of a whole bunch of games, all of which are worth a look.