I was down to a lovely, and rather fetching (in my opinion) pair of underpants while I painted the bedroom wall in the Paris apartment yesterday afternoon.
Despite the heat and the mess, I still felt like I should have a bit more on, especially as the windows were open and the building opposite isn't far away. This isn't exactly how I'd like my new neighbours to see me for the first time.
I needn't have worried. An hour or so into painting and there's an almighty row coming from the street below and the sound of some kind of 'manifestation'.
Now, this is Paris - the capital city of the home of the demonstration - so I wasn't exactly surprised that there was a march going past the house. I was surprised when I looked out to see what the demo was about.
I'm still not sure what the theme was, but there were a couple of hundred of naked cyclists going past, all looking rather uncomfortable in the saddle.
There was much in the way of, well, flesh on display.
The men looked like they'd taken the strings of onions from round their necks and put them in their laps....The women looked they were on an anti-pubic hair trimming campaign - these were some hairy marys, let me tell you.
In reality though, I have no idea what they were demonstrating about - maybe just about their right to cycle naked through the streets of Paris?
Anyway, the tourists had a fine old time snapping away at the parade of human flesh. And the police escort seemed to be quite happy with their lot, too.
As for me, well I went back to my near-naked decorating.
Welcome to Paris.