At the end of May, I headed to France. Between getting there and returning I basically spent a day on the plane. This included a one-hour delay in Paris. However, I was already on the plane at that point, meaning I got through more than half a movie as I waited to depart.
Spending two weeks in France meant one thing was certain: I was going to read books set in France, about France, or by French authors. This was interspersed with a couple of airport books since I have acquired the habit of buying books whenever I am about to board a plane. The fact that so many airport bookshops offer a wide selection of rubbish, makes the challenge to find something worthwhile all the more challenging.