Advertisement
Published: April 22nd 2008
When we last spoke, Ness and I had just boarded the plane to Paris, flying to Beauvais airport.
Now one thing that bothers me about budget airlines is that they don't give you a seat number. From what I can see, this doesn't save them time and only prolongs the pain of boarding a plane, people rushing to get on board, to get a seat and generally being annoying. Complete chaos. Why not just give everyone a seat number? Is it really going to cost them that much more chas, I mean, they give you a boarding pass anyway, printing two or three extra characters on the damn thing isn't goig to break the bank is it? Apologies for the rant, I just needed to get that off my chest.
Anyway, we were off, up, up and away. Now, I don't particularly like flying at the best of times but this flight didn't engender any sense of secutiry or saftey in me and when we were almost at the end of the flight and hit some turbulence, the atmosphere throughout the plane didn't appear to improve. I actually thought the guy sitting next to me may land in my
lap, he jumped so high. So, after breathing through it, we finally landed, safely.
Walking across the tarmac into the little-bitty airport that is Beauvais, I started to get excited - we were in France and very nearly in Paris! Waiting for our luggage I wandered across to what appeared to be the only people working in the airport arrivals area, two rather spunky young men, who, as it turns out didn't speak a word of English, so trying to find out where we would have to go to get our pre-booked shuttle wasn't going to happen! In fact, I couldn't even say thank you (despite their lack of help, their big smiles and friendly nature totally deserved some recognition) in French. In fact, I couldn't even say thank you in English! Instead I struggled through various options, mainly Italian before stumbling onto English and then French! Two weeks conditioning in Italy will do it to you.
So once we picked up our luggage and bashed a rude man out of the way who had bullied his way in front of us we wandered through the arrival gate only to find, drum roll please... a guy standing their
holding a sign with my name on it! Awesome! Totally great, and like in the movies, and sooooo much easier than having to think at some ungodly hour of the day, especially after surviving a plane ride. So off we went, following a man and his sign, then waiting for said man in a wind that could only be described as punishing. Seriously. I thought my ears might explode from the pain. But then, saviour in the form of a scooby doo van! From the wind at the very least - this guy drove like a maniac. The van was shaking from the high speed! Arriving at our destination - the Arc de Triumphe - it was into a cab and off to the hotel, which was so cute and little, but super greash! Thanks to Miss Nessa for the super great digs!
The following day (Saturday 29th March for those of you playing at home), the sun was out, despite the smattering of clouds and Nessa and I set out to the Champs de Elysees. Wandering along I could help but reminisce about the last time I had been here, I'd had such a great day and to
be here again brought it all flooding back. Damn! Anyway, at some points I managed just to walk through the fog of the past, creating new memories, like stopping in the park to have bagettes and coffee. I love bread in this country so much! And cheese! And, yeah well, you know where I'm going so I'll stop...
Arriving at the Louvre it was time to go in. Now, despite both having been to Paris a couple of times before, neither Ness or I had been to the Louvre so this was going to be fun. Walking through into the larger of the 2 glass pyramids, we took the escalator into the heart of the building, buying tickets and then having the fun task of which direction to go in first. I was very amused to see that one of the main wings of the museum is called Sully! Deciding to head towards the Mona Lisa, we also visited the Medieval Louvre, which details and shows the foundations of the original structure/castle that the building is based upon. We also wandered through the Apollo Room, which is absolutely spectatular. After deliberately avoiding the Italian sculpture, and deliberately looking at
a variety of paintings and artworks from a more recent period than those we had been seeing in the various Italian galleries we visited, it was off to the Sacre Coure and Monemarte.
Successfully figuring out which bus to take was our first mission which we passed with flying colours, until, unbeknowst to us, only a third of the way closer to our destination, the bus terminated, the driver claiming that the roads were blocked or something. Damn weekends/road works/protests, whatever the cause, stupid public transport systems that some how trick you! It was off on foot for us, travelling up the hill, popping into the occasional shoe shop along the way. We did actually also pass a protest potentially legitimating the claims of the bus driver! Struggling up more damn stairs, we made it to the church in the sky to see the view across all that is Paris. Now I know this statement will bring agast exclaimations from most of you, but I hadn't been up here either (I promise I have been up the Eiffell Tower). The view is spectacular and although crowded, there is a great vibe up here.
Wandering on, making our way
to a square of Monemarte, we were blocked at one point by a group of runners. I think we may just have seen the preliminary Paris marathon! Anyway, finally we made it and Nessa found a lovely guy to take here portrait - which I have to say is awesome! As fate would have it, the piece that caught my eye was over 400 Euro so that well and truely quashed that potential purchase. Despite some very impressive wheddleing by Nessa's artist, I declined having mine done - where would I put it for a start! That and the fact it was threatening to rain and my hair was looking terrible that day...
So, back down the hill we set out for home, stopping in a very impressive bakery along the way, pottering past the Moulin Rouge and then walking about a gazzillion miles in the wrong direction because the street the hotel was on, isn't on my damn map - only the same street name in a different district. Oops. Luckily for us people are very friendly and directed us back to the metro although on the way we found a bus stop with the quicker easier route!
Yay for nice people and helpful bus drivers. The great thing about being a tourist is that people already assume you are an idiot so if you ask a 'dumb' question you can get away with it! Sorry Nessa... at least I walked off that Citron Tart!
Heading out for dinner we ended up with the quintessential French meal, starting with Onion soup, yum! Managing to communicate with the waiter proved the biggest challenge of the evening (thank god, after that walk). I don't know whether he was terrible or I was just so over tired but it was a definite struggle! Luckily, when we got back to the hotel we noticed the note that the clocks needed to be changed. Phew! The last thing you need when you are travelling, that is just sneaking, physically changing the time on you!
The following day was up and at 'em, with packing for our respective home destinations and then breakfast around the corner in this cute little boulangarie (totally stuffed up the spelling, but you'll figure it out). Almond croissant and cups of tea, with a great friend, what more could a girl want - oh, a massage! Finally
we were at the train station, having our final coffees of the trip that had been planned for months and months. Very strange feeling. After saying our final goodbyes and Nessa heading to her departure area, the details for my train finally came up on the board - I was supposed to go to the same lounge! So after being separated for all of 5 minutes, we were together again! Eventually though, the trip was over, with Nessa boarding her train, leaving me to suduko and journal writing.
Despite being sad that the trip was over, a new phase of my journey was just about to start - I was off to see my family! Yay! While my grandmother semi-regularly comes over to Australia to visit, I hadn't seen my Aunty for over 5 years and I haven't seen any of my dad's side of the family since we lived in England so you can imagine my excitement. That and I am planning to catch up with my brother! Crazy stuff. So, I finally got on the train to Calais, then on a bus, and then finally in a taxi to ge to the ferry. All in all, this
trip across the channel was a bit of a disaster. For some reason I didn't tell my family what ferry I was on, only the time it would be arriving, which of course was changed. It was put back half an hour and then, when we finally boarded, we sat in the water for another half an hour, making me really late. Luckily I wasn't sea sick and managed to even eat something and read my book (which is great btw), all the while, worrying about putting everyone out and trying to ignore the stupid, loud, drunk people across from me. The worst part was, I had no credit to text or call them to tell them I was late and instead was recieivng messages from them asking where I was! Finally they called and I could tell them I what was happening, but, jeepers, just what I was trying to avoid. When I booked, I deliberately DIDN'T book the train straight to Ashford (which would have been easier for me) because I didn't want to put anyone out. Instead, I ended up arriving late and they spent more time waiting than it would have taken to pick me up
from Ashford! Bugger!
But at last, after sitting for even longer waiting to dock and watching the sun set over the white cliffs of Dover, I was there, back in Kent, with familiar faces and big cuddles!
Points to ponder-
- what the hell are women doing in the female toilets that takes so freaking long? You go in, you pee, get out, it's simple ladies.
- some people shouldn't drive cars - Nanny May knows what I'm talking about
- wine is so much better in Australia, we are go spoilt, don't forget it people.
- you girls owe me a mojito when I get back for confusing me when you let me know you were at the sail without me - i'm like, but it's saturday morning, the cocktail bar isn't even open! heheheh!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.095s; Tpl: 0.021s; cc: 7; qc: 45; dbt: 0.0557s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Mum
non-member comment
Memories
I sooooo luv Paris. Could we live there????? I agree David is one cool specimen! (Florence). Love you lots, keep on having fun. Mum