About the last thing that you want to deal with after an 11 hour work day at the end of an extremely stressful week is to come home to unexplained water on the kitchen floor. And yet we found ourselves in such a situation on Thursday night, exhausted, hungry and (for me at least) in denial that we actually had to do anything about it. After ruling out the radiator, Michael found the origin of the puddle to be the hot water pipe in the wall behind our kitchen counter. It was a small leak, but one that was issuing a steady stream of steaming water onto the floor below. At this point, it's close to 10pm. We have not yet had to deal with a plumbing situation in France, but if there is one thing I have learned from the struggles of others it is that one will pay dearly for the visit of a French plumber outside of normal business hours. Or a locksmith for that matter. Serious horror stories. So instead of looking up an emergency plumber, we got in touch with our landlord who called the building caretaker (guardienne), whose husband came up to take a look. While all of this is happening, I am frantically google translating words like "leak" (fuite) and "pipe" (conduit). It was an educational moment. Here's the play-by-play action, told in pictures... Luckily we came home to an intact, non-leaky kitchen on Friday night after work. We have no idea who actually fixed what, or how long it took. But the outcome was a good one insofar as it goes for our first Parisian plumbing encounter - fixed quite quickly, minimal damage, and we didn't have to pay one red centime. I'm guessing we will not be as fortunate next time.
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AuthorBecause why not get married and move to Paris to really kick off your thirties? Archives
December 2016
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