“Philosophy” meant an endless flow of words about the life and work of Jean Paul Sartre. I remember wondering if the teacher ever took breaks, say, to breathe; and I remember being impressed by myself (and my French) that I was able to understand most of what he was saying. At that point I understood probably 90% of all French I heard or read, but I didn’t speak much. Today I’m ashamed to say I do neither.
The class could have been a boring one – should have, even – but in reality is wasn’t so bad. I know I found it both educational and interesting, though somewhat monotone. I wasn’t at all impressed by the teaching methods employed by that particular professeur.
No student spoke during the class, until one of the boys suddenly exclaimed with a surprised voice: “Monsieur, un chat!” And indeed, a cat it was. A small, black and white cat had strayed up to the roof of the grand old building, and now it had discovered an open window. The cat only joined the class for a few minutes before it was hoisted out through the same window it had entered. However, I am sure that most of the students in that class, like me, remember the cat far better than the life and philosophy of a certain Monsieur Sartre.
And just to be clear - this isn't the cat in question. This cat is just a pretty one that Wikipedia lent me.
The other picture is, however, from Paris, though not from that trip. I've done Paris a lot :)