The day I arrived in Orlando to start my stint as the writer-in-residence at the Kerouac House, the project’s director drove me to the supermarket as soon as I dropped off my bags. Even if Central Florida felt a world away from France, I was glad one thing remained the same: food is a top priority! (That, and t.p. – not one roll left in the house!)
Pulling into the Publix parking lot, however, I realized, Toto, we’re not in Paris anymore.
Continue reading ‘Culture Shock, Early Paris Days, and Crepes for Chandeleur’