I wasn’t really ready to leave England. I do love it so much there but it as time to move on. We slowly went through all the machinations of returning the rental car, getting on the train to London, and hurrying up just so we could wait at St. Pancras to get on the Eurostar to Paris. I was a little anxious about it all, truth be told, due to the migrant crisis at Dover and Calais that had shut down the Eurostar two days earlier, but it all went according to plan despite all that. Zoe spent most of the trip annoying Terra, who was very good natured about the whole thing.
It’s an extremely smooth trip to Paris but any dreams of rounding a corner and seeing a tree lined boulevard with the Eiffel Tower rising above it are soon crushed when this rolls into view instead
Not exactly the Champs Elysees.
There was also an anti-Uber taxi strike going on that had turned violent the day before with angry taxi drivers flipping vehicles and lighting tires on fire. Great! So it was the Metro for us. We had all our suitcases so there was potential for it to be a bit of a nightmare, but we made it anyway mostly due to Terra’s acts of inhuman strength carrying both her own and my mum’s suitcases up and down flights of stairs. What a superstar she was.
After a short walk, we made it to our hotel, La Sanguine, so named for the colour of the reddish chalk that was used by artists for sketching. We have stayed here before and it was just as friendly and quaint as we remembered. The rooms are puniture (as Jacob would say) but awesome. We took a little while to relax and then headed out for the evening.
The Pont Alexandre III was were we had our first sighting of the Eiffel Tower. The bridge was full of people having their picture taken in various states of being. Terra and Zoe already seemed to be fitting right in and were so excited to be exactly where they were at that moment in time.
And here I am just after getting married. Oh not, wait that’s not me…
Here I am in my new banana print pantsuit. Wait…nope sorry that’s not me either.
Actually this is me fighting off yet another Pegasus. Paris is full of these sculptures of a bunch of winged horses combined with scantily clad men or women draped in what seems to be a highly impractical blanket ensemble which, I might add, is always falling off their shoulders and impeding their progress. I’ve taken to calling them a Horse Mess and they are everywhere.
After I got down from my pole position, we set off to find hotdogs. It being a Friday in Paris, the place was alive and basically one big party. We walked along the Seine, found our hotdogs and also some delicious sorbet, and admired the scenery. Now,you might be thinking “Hotdogs? in Paris? WTF” but trust me, le ‘ot dog has come a long way over here. Europe and I had to have a chat about them when I was in Sweden a few years ago, specifically how they were making the sausages too long and the buns too short, but things are much better now so obviously, word has gotten out. You’re welcome.
Along the way, the banks of the Seine were full of gorgeous French women and men all picnicking and drinking bottles of wine and generally looking exactly like a cliché of themselves. It was fabulous, as was the cruise. I took a few photos but they were terrible on account of the fact that I wasn’t really paying attention as it was so lovely just too see all of Paris out for the night, buildings and people alike glowing in the fading light. I did manage to take one decent photo of the Eiffel Tower, in case you can’t remember what it looks like.
It was a great introduction to a beautiful city, but we were definitely ready for bed and I hardly remember going to sleep.
More tomorrow including why the Louvre is an asshole.
Sanks for heeding,
Cheers,
Jane
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