I think the Grinch expressed it best (click to listen):
No wonder he was such a cranky prick. Those Whos were pretty damn loud, if you ask me.
In Paris, every building is required to undergo a good cleaning every 10-15 years. So on nearly every street, you will see at least one building covered by scaffolding so that the ravalement can take place.
The buildings look great when they're done, so pretty and bright and fresh, you can see the lovely details in all the stonework, if there is any. But the process? Is sheer hell for the residents and neighbors. Clouds of dust hover over the street and fall onto cars. Dusty, dirty water cascades onto the sidewalk and leaves residue for passers-by to step around (or in). The people living in the building can't open their windows for weeks, because they are sealed shut by protective plastic (not to mention that you've got workmen peeking in your windows all day long).
But the worst? Is the noise. The NOISE! Oh the noise, Noise, NOISE, NOISE!!! It begins shortly after 8am every weekday, and continues unabated until about 5pm or so, except for the lunch break (which, being in France, is mercifully longer than it might be elsewhere). It woke up Le Garçon yesterday when he had the chance to sleep in until 9am, and believe me, he is still mad about that.
Here's a short sample from 8:15 this morning.
And this isn't even as bad as it can get. The machine they use to water-blast the grime off the stone sounds like a jackhammer. All. Freaking. Day. Long. Punctuated by the tap, tap, tapping of hammers and chisels, the rattle of workers climbing metal ladders and stomping on metal scaffolding in their big work boots. Oh, and the usual traffic from cars and even tourist buses trying to avoid Place de Clichy. (Never again will I live on a street just near a traffic light or across from a supermarket that gets early-morning deliveries.)
I've been holed up in our bedroom most of the day, just to get away from the noise, and I'm starting to get claustrophobia from it.
The only thing worse than being across the street from this mess would be if it were happening to us, directly. I'm only praying OUR building isn't due for a ravelement until AFTER we've moved on, in a few years' time.
Because I might just snap under the insanity of all that noise.
