Wednesday 21/9/22

After a very relaxing flight with 3 movies and a couple of light meals we hit the tarmac at 525 in Heathrow, happy to arrive but completely unaware what the rest of the day was to bring.

All of the worry about delays in customs, lost baggage and general airport chaos was dispelled in the matter of 30 minutes. We were soon headed for a terminal change for the 1 hour 20 flight to Paris, albeit 7 hours waiting, courtesy of us abandoning idea of catching train and choosing to fly.

Plenty of walking around and coffee for a few hours before trying our luck to book in early. Lucked in and at least we were in the right terminal with heaps more things to see and do.

More coffee, more food, more walking and a couple of hours chatting to other travellers and it was time for boarding. That’s when it all began.

Lots of info saying plane was delayed was followed by an announcement of “if Jane Westley and Danny Lee are in the gate area please come to the desk” First thoughts of an upgrade were dashed when told that at original check in we had been bumped to the 500pm flight. Thankfully we were squeezed onto the flight, but not sure which flight luggage was on.

Another series of delays with incoming flight and finally around 215 we were ferried out and loaded onboard BA314 bound for Paris.

Bound for Paris was the intent but not the outcome. After more excuses than a beaten jockey in the ensuing 1 .5 hours Captain advised that technical problem could not be solved and they were sourcing a new plane with new take off time off 440pm.

With a squillion whinging Poms and arrogant Yanks tailing along we went back to the terminal readying ourselves for round 2.

Sourcing a second aeroplane was much easier than expected, getting it ready was another thing . Finally on board and clicking the seatbelt in, mildly hopeful. we would make our 800pm appointment with the Arc d’Triomphe.

All checks completed and plane ready to go, until some guy in a High Viz jacket arrives and announces two crew had to be replaced. Well that got the Indian’s restless and they grumbled for an hour until 620 when the flight took off to a volley of clapping and cheering..

The smooth flight was followed by an extended taxi process and at 843 French time we walked off the plane.

French Immigration was a shambles, but not the baggage and after an hour or so we were in the airport concourse, looking for the train.

Aa 30 minute walk, 20 minute ticket buying process and we were off, tired and knowing 46 hours were going to be worth it in the end.

Found our station and dragged the bags through the streets which were full of drinkers and diners, whetting our appetite for what was to come.

We reached the Air B and B , so we thought and thankfully 2 guests let us in. Dragged the bags up a winding and narrow staircase to our 3rd floor apartment.

Alas, we were keyless and no sign of the key box. Frantic calls to owner and Jane was off on a trek to get the keys whilst I lugged bags down to the 1sr floor and sat waiting.

Jane arrived back and we were into our lovely apartment ready for nothing but a soft bed after 48 hours since leaving home.

Hoping these misadventures are not setting the scene for rest of the trip.

Thursday 22nd September

Titillating Day

Awoke slightly less stressed and headed off on the first leg of a very busy day.

Went for the French breakfast with a coffee and croissant at the local cafe and then a 400 metre walk down to walk along the Seine.

The streets were abuzz with cars and the no traffic rules cyclists who seemed to delight in ignoring any lights or zebra crossings.

Very early in the walk we got our first close up look at Notre Dame on the Left Bank and then a distant look at the Eiffel Tower. We wandered around the forecourt of the Louvre which was already seething with tourists. Had our first exposure to a trickster , but shooed her off pretty quickly still with wallets etc intact.

We wandered down to the Champs Elleysee and took in all of the high end shops, most with huge crowds waiting to get in .

We were surprised they had legalized drugs in Paris and could not resists entering The Drugstore only to find it was a cleverly named retail store.

Arrived at the Arc de Triomphe, where we were supposed to be yesterday and it was relatively quiet other than the hundreds of cars- I could just see Chevy Chase doing laps. Like in the movie.

We wandered through some picturesque backstreets where many apartment buildings has spectacular rooftop gardens. When you complain about Sydney home prices, have a bit of sympathy for the Parisienne’s . One b from loft apartment were neigh on $A1.8M.

Got to the forecourt of National Library which gives a panoramic view down to the Eiffel Tower. It was packed with hawkers selling trinkets that would barely last till you got to the end of the street. There was the usual thimble and pee people working the crowds with there cronies having plenty of dummy bets. Tourists still fell for the ruse.

We had some time to spare and lunched in a street side cafe where elbow room was at a premium, like all of the cafes, bars and restaurants in town. Lunch was pretty sumptuous and beer and wine were remarkably cheap.

We worked our way down to Eiffel Tower and joined the queues for our designated viewing.

We had paid to go to the top but somehow staff shortages meant the top was closed and second viewing platform was it.

You would not know Covid existed in Paris only about 1 in 50 people wear masks – none of the 40 or so we shared the lift ride did.

The view was spectacular on a pretty cloudless day and we were able to work out the geography of the city in preparation for the rest of our sightseeing.

Finished the tour and popped down onto the riverside to take a cruise down river to take a different perspective of the left and Right bank. It was a relaxing way to see things and enjoy life at a relaxed pace.

That ended the quiet touristy part of the day. We headed home to don the glad rags to attend the Moulin Rouge show with tickets gifted by Jane’s kids.

Worked out the travel route and headed to the Metro for the train ticket buying lottery. We managed to get around the language barrier fine, but I didn’t get through the ticket barrier test and had to scramble on hands and knees like a Gypsy fare evader to get to the other side. I dared not look at locals faces as the one one Jane’s was enough to say ‘stupid old man’.

Managed to get the tight train and scale the stairs to the Metro exit which popped out 150 metres from Moulin Rouge.

Arrived a bit early so popped into local bar for a couple of very cheap drinks , then it was on the line ready to enter with enormous excitement and expectationwe joined about another 400 people in a theatre with beautiful decor and more than 100 people ready to wine and dine you before the entertainment started.

We had spectacular seats within touching distance of the stage which guaranteed a close up and personal view of all the dancers- male and female. We sipped on a lively three course meal and a bottle of champers before the entertainment started around 900pm.

What a spectacular! One didn’t know where to look as the girls danced in various splendid outfits doing different routines over the next 90 minutes.

They all definitely had nice sets of teeth from what I recall.

There was other fabulous acrobatic shows put on by 3 other groups of entertainers… While despite suffering severe sleep deprivation I don’t think I missed any of the show. It is surely a life time memory I will treasure.

As we were leaving around 11 the audience was lining up for the next show. Those dancers must be highly trained athletes to do that twice in a couple of hours.

Despite all of the stimulation it was a real effort to stay awake on the train ride home and for the second night in succession it was clothes off and crash into bed.

Friday 23rd September

Food Glorious Food

Had the sleep of the dead and awoke a little less jet lagged. A quick get your own breakfast courtesy of supermarket and we were off for a walk along the Seine to the Louvre for the first tour of the day.

We joined the throng at the front gate and were soon into the glass entry pyramid and then following the conga line to the room with the Mona Lisa portrait on show. We were with the first 50 or so to get in, so we got a great view and didn’t get shooed along by staff.
it was a nice moment to relevt on such an iconic painting and be able to tick off another bucket list item. We wandered about the various galleries and exhibitions for a few more hours taking in as much culture as the mind would allow. The opulence in which the likes of Napoleon lived was breathtaking, you can understand with the very distinct society of have’s and have not’s why the people revolted.

After the culture overload we headed back home through some of the backstreets of Paris where the problem of homelessness was very obvious.

Once home we prepared for our afternoon / evening sojourn to the Montmartre district, which is the highest point in town.

Now experts on traversing the Metro we headed off – oops did I say experts? and promptly got on a train going in the wrong direction. Bought a second lot of tickets and navigated s couple of last ne changes before laboring up 300 steps to get out of the Metro – guess being highest point in town we should have realised it.

The station, like several others around town, had a little merry go round with not too many passengers but lots of shrieking wannabes being placated by parents.

The top of station steps did not mark the top of the hill and we were soon on an hour and a half walking tour of the area, with Jane as the faithful guide. Passed a lot of historical points including a studio where Picasso painted and lived, the only two working windmills in Paris, the famous man in the wall sculpture where it’s said you get good luck if you rub his left hand. The shiny hand indicated many had sought good fortune and I joined the group. Another landmark was the mural of the rabbit jumping out of the pot on the stove.

Then it was up to the cathedral where in usual fashion the church had built the biggest and best with an absolutely amazing view over the City.

The forecourt was packed with tourist snapping selfies to the spectacular backdrop.

What goes up must come down meant climbing down a seemingly endless set of stairs , luckily without a fall, unlike a bleeding schoolgirl and an embarrassed iverdressedvAsisn tourist who thought the smooth bike lane was the go.

We still had an hour and a half to kill before our food tour so we settled into some people watching accompanied by a couple of cocktails.

Bang on 600pm we met our the tour guide who was of Japanese descent but looking bed in France most of her life. It was interesting that even when she spoke French the letter R proved linguistically challenging.

Along with 8 others we embarked on a food odyssey with first stop the cheese shop who had 101 different varieties to choose from- all made from unpasteurized milk. Next up was the chocolate and macaroon shop where we tasted a couple of varieties of each from an eclectic selection if flavors. Next it was the butcher where the guide gathered up a selection of meets for charcuterie board we would enjoy later. A quick stop for a taste test of crepes was next it was a bit uncomfortable with a beggar with child on board asking for help. A Good Samaritan shouted her a crepe and cup of milk for the baby.

The next was the boulangerie where we collected bread and pastries. Fully armed we headed to a tasting room situated in a cellar below a restaurant.

A tricky walk down a narrow and windy staircase and we were sitting around the table like a band of deciples ready to enjoy hopefully not our last supper. Though it sounds like a huge feast the portions were small ie a taste of Paris not a meal

We enjoyed the full gamut of treats , including 6 different cheeses and three different meats, plus chocolate eclairs all accompanied by champagne, red and white wine, dessert wine and a cleansin cognac before waddling off through the red light district to catch a train home and follow what was now becoming a ritual – undressing and collapsing into bed.