Paris

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Paris at last after 24 hours of planes and airports, including ridiculous security measures in Miami and London, both only transit stops. (I did enjoy reading the London Herald which had 6 pages on the Rugby 6 nations and not a single column on the infidels).
Arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport and the complete opposite with the officialdom, not even a customs or immigration form required. I already loved the place.
We limped into our hostel at 1.00pm to be politely informed that our room wasn't available until 4.00pm. Tired and crusty it would have been easy to capitulate. However, leaving backpacks at the hostel, we strolled around the corner and in the bright Paris sunshine, Sacre Coeur in all it's glory, dozens of cafes bursting with Parisiens exercising their joie de vivre and savoir faire, the travails of the previous 24 hours are washed away. It took no imagination to envisage Audrey Tautou cycling past the Montmartre Cafe as we sipped on a vin rouge watching the Poms spank Les Bleus in the six nations. (drats).
Now all of you folks who don't mind pedalling some misguided French cliches - arrogance, dirty, impolite, bland, overrated etc. Yes, to all you punters, take your right index finger and your right thumb and tightly squeeze the right ear lobe and drag yourself into the bathroom and have a good long hard look at yourself in the mirror. Now give yourself a couple of slaps in the face and then have a nice big hot cup of reality. This town is, is, is, is, - PARIS.
The Parisiens might not OWN the word style (although they do own the word chic) but they have a solid deposit on the mortgage. The acrhitecture, food, people, and, and,......I know most of you are bored cause you've been here yourselves..... I don't care, it's my Blog site and I'm gunna rave. You could spend a week just wandering the streets. You turn some obscure corner and you just know that there will be something to gawk at.
Sneak out of Paris about 45 minutes on the fast train and we have Fontainbleau, a provincial feeling town with this chateau (now there's a word that has trangressed all languages) that oozes opulance and I suppose decadence. 1900 elaborate rooms that puts a whole new dimension to hide and seek, along with countless hectares of manicured gardens that really appealed to Penny's hedging fetish. The French Royalty really knew how to live it up -til about 1789 when the party was over.
Any downers so far? Yeah, a few.
. they smoke too much and the associated laws are yet to keep pace with the rest of the developed world.
. you think you've a fair grasp of the language until you ask for a glass of Bordeaux red. Come on Yeatesy, it's BO, (from the back of the throat Yeatesy) RRRRRRRRRR,DEAUX. I never did get my Bourrrrrrrrdeaux. Perhaps the waitresse's subtle way of saying "if you don't pronounce it right the first time you don't get your Bourrrrrrrdeaux". I must have pronounced Beaujoulais correctly as I received 2 of those.
. they have this monstrous great tower that is a straight copy of the one in Las Vegas.
. some of the gypsies attempts to swindle can get a bit monotonous.
. some of the food can be a tad expensive.
eg. GAZ - hey Penny, how about some truffle for our lunch time sandwich.
PENNY - sounds scrummy
GAZ - hey truffle guy, could I have a half kilo of truffle please.
TRUFFLE GUY - certainement monsieur, that will be 1,100 euros please.
GAZ - bargain. Only $3,700 aus for 1kg of fungus that some pig dug up.

I've always thought the greatest compliment someone could give a place is to claim they could live there. I'm Aussie through and through but Paris, I would give living here a nudge.
YEATESY

It has been 25 years since I have been to Paris and I am wondering what delayed me all those years. I always had great memories of France itself but now seeing through my older eyes, I am just loving it. It has probably helped having clear, crisp blue skies every day. The climb to the top of Eiffel Tower was spectacular, even from so high up everything looks so pristine and beautiful with the trees starting their green and red new growth.
The Musee Quai de Branly is really impressive and in fact required more of our time, there is just so much to see. The boulangeries scattered along every street are slowing me down with all the delicious pastries and elaborate / expensive cakes. It has been wonderful sharing Paris with Gary and seeing things through his eyes having never been here before. His big 50 was a great day made even more exciting with phone calls, cards and gifts (thanks everyone). We travelled to Fontainbleau for the day and enjoyed a typical French dinner that night (thanks Paul and Terry - and happy birthday to you also). That evening with a few glasses of wine tucked under our belts we wandered back to our hostel past the Sacre Coeur fully lit up, the jazz club is still on our list for when we return in September.
I am sad to leave Paris but looking forward to Nancy, 3 hours drive away. We have collected our 207 Peugot, it is lovely and zappy and am looking forward to getting it on the open road. I hope the driving is not as complicated as finding the Peugot dealer- that's another story.
ps. Gary's french is great, they just need to get used to his accent.
PENNY

More images at:

www.colvinyeates.zenfolio.com

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Photos

Paris
By night

Paris
Couldn't resist

Paris
Sacre Coeur

Paris
Friendly Parisian Boucher

Paris
Pont Alexandre III

Paris
Inside out building

Fontainbleau
50 more years, and he'll receive his letter from the Queen. 15/3/2007

Fontainbleau
Chateau, rooms 700 - 876.