Paid a visit to the famous Harrods megastore in London, a lovely place but they have the nerve to charge six pounds for a cup of tea..didn't bother, uppity atmosphere anyway, the pianola (yep, pianola..) was playing that song 'I know I don't belong..here in heaven' Had to laugh.
Got the train to Paris, upon arrival we all got off the train and came face to face with a dozen military/police persons, all carrying Massive rifles, a little scary, they just stood there and watched as we all walked past them, then patrolled until the next train arrived and watched those passengers. Had a chance to revise my sparse french- almost all of which I've learnt from movies and songs..
Practically everything has some flair, even saw a couple of homeless men wearing those plastic top hats that are covered in glitter, sitting on the steps to a beautiful church and sharing a small bottle of something.
I stood under the Eiffel tower, it's hard to describe just how wonderfully beautiful that is. The surreal magnificence of it..and different then I had imagined, in a very good way.
It was an unusual night out, my cousin (who lives there) drove us into the city, we noticed police on every street corner and police tape guarding off parking, particularly around monuments..there were no boats on the Seine, none, except for a police craft with a bright white light waving sweeping the channel. There hasn't been any news..the usual menace I suppose.
It was such a beautiful summer evening though, I just had to clamber up to sit on the ledge of the Pont de la Tournelle bridge, which was completely safe- I checked that there were ledges down the other side (this information didn't stop my wonderful cousin squalking at me to "Get down! and Don't fall!) I sat there with my back against one of Paris' beautiful old fashioned lamp posts and looked out along the water, with the Eiffel Towers' searchlight finding me every thirty seconds or so. Magical!
Went out to the Louvre, saw so many other beautiful sights of Paris that I can't pronounce..or spell..correctly. Walked around in the castle of Versailles and where Marie Antoinette lived.
Slightly bruised due to french petite-ness regarding absolutely everything. The french cuisine is mostly wasted on me-desserts look like works of art. The cobbled streets, while charming to the extreme..are fairly dangerous for a wobbly disaster like me.
The train around town is fantastic and the speed of light. French baguettes live up to the hype- no preservatives allowed so everyone really does walk around with one or two in a brown paper bag daily.
I stayed in a posh hotel on my last night, decided to head into Montmartre, an abundance of 'cool-because-we're-wearing-fedoras-and-slashed-leggings-and-ignoring-you-whilst-blowing-smoke-in-your-face'..type people walking around. Saw the Moulin Rouge, which was pretty cool, knowing that so many artists and dreamers (and no doubt ex-dreamers) have shared the pavement under my feet. Every store is some kind of sleaze- frequently hilarious, kinda nauseating. The atmosphere on the street, while obviously heightened, wasn't threatening..a few too many comments hollered my way by leering middle aged blokes..but everything sounds better in french..best to ignore but I'm a fan of the light-hearted dismissive wave.
On my way back to the hotel I saw a homeless guy going through garbage cans and eating scraps..I called out "monsieur?" And handed him a couple of euros..he thanked me but it didn't ease my guilt as I stood in the elevator to the tenth floor, I didn't really expect it to.
My room is looking directly at the Grand Arch (finally something I can spell eh?) and, oddly, a cemetery.
When I got back to London, the suburb of Notting Hill was hosting a three day street carnival celebrating all things Caribbean. There were lots of police minding the enormous crowds (worry over riots-which was all happening while I was in Edinburgh) but still pretty fun- even though rubbish was ankle deep in the streets, huge piles of food containers and beer cans everywhere, makeshift urinals every ten metres into occupants gardens- an unpleasant discovery when walking uphill.
Loved the brilliant musical 'Billy Elliot' so much I saw 'Wicked' the next night- bit expensive, but what the hell? How often am I gunna be in London's West End?
Not the friendliest collective bunch of people, the musical attendees..going alone not a good idea..ticket person caused a bit of a scene for me:
(loudly) Are you with them? no.
These? no, just me..
Ohhhh..enjoy the show
Hahaha. I will. I did.
Leaving was a heartbreaker, saying goodbye to my baby cousin for quite a while.
Plane to Seoul was slightly traumatic..more so for the fellas sitting either side of me and my tonne of carry-on..then I spilled ice water on Yohan as he was sleeping..felt soo bad! someone kept farting, the place reeked. Skinny chick across the aisle had her skinny ankles on top of the seat in front of her- talkin' bout a seven inch gap here! Show off.
Waiting in Seoul airport for five hours was an utter bore..everyone else just runs around buying duty free, pretty cranky without sleep- to adjust back to Sydney time. Back to reality..if only staying on holiday came with holiday-able income. Karma made up for my lousy seating to Seoul with three seats to myself to Sydney..love the view of the stars and half moon from my window..good to semi-contemplate my time away/ my to-do list for when I get home..All in all awesome.
To summarise
The Thames is Brown
The Seine is Green
Edinburgh moors are Grey
Sydney Harbour is Blue Blue Blue
Not better or worse, just blue-er
My most valuable item was suggested in class by my geography teacher in tenth grade-
"Blah blah blah blah, by the way, if any of you ever travel, and I suggest you do, take a sarong because you can use it as a towel and it dries faster, anyway back on topic: blah blah blah blah"
How right she was: My stripey pink and red was never far away
Exhibit a) Most hostels give a doona/pillow & bottom sheet but never, ever a top sheet- Sarong!
b) Long bus trip without a curtain on the window- Sarong! (tied to the string where a curtain ought to be..or draped over own seat and seat in front)
c) Long train journey without a neck pillow- Sarong! (folded up)
d) No towel- Sarong! yes, incredibly fast drying also..
e) No privacy to change in a bunk-filled hostel room- Sarong!
f) Could've worn it as a sarong/scarf too, I guess..unimaginative though.
Thanks for reading my ramblings!
Peace.
