There is an enormous lack of internet sites in Paris - well there was where we were, so this is typed in Roma.
A very fast train trip from London to Paris - there were a number of tunnels along the route and it was not until I saw the Calais rail station that I relised that we had crossed the channel. We had no idea that we had been under the ocean.
Arrived at the train station in Paris and attempted to access the toilets. Now I realise that there are toilets that you pay to use around the world, but why is it that when I go to use one, the machine that collects the money breaks down and the staff, who cannot get it to work, refuse to let you use it.
So down the street we go, with a walk of about a kilometer to the hotel. Of course, we look like tourists, so the beggars immeadiately approach us looking for money. The most popular ploy is either a note written in English imploring that you help by donating cash, or an old woman holding a photo of a baby and reapeating in a very forlorn voice 'help my baby' Mind you, she would have set a new world record for becoming the worlds oldest woman to give birth, but that doesn't matter.
At the hotel, we came across our first real Frenchman - and I know why people believe that the French are arrogant. I know of some blokes around the football club who would not have tolerated that behaviour for very long. Any assistance was very difficult to extract at all - he seemed quite determined to make our stay unpleasant.
So off we went to have a look around the Louvre (which was shut of course) but we did manage to wander around that area checking out the scenery. The view from the bridge over the Seine at the Louvre was breathtaking - old Paris is an incredibly beautiful city. We stayed in the area till dusk eating chocolate crepes and sitting next to amazing fountains, untill we decided we needed a drink and bed. There was a restaurant/bar just around the corner from our hotel (which did not sell grog and was nothing more than a motel without cars) and ran into a waiter who really enjoyed our pathetic attempts at French and who thought we were funny. If only he knew.....
Next day was spent attempting to see everything at the Louvre, which is physically impossible unless you can run for eight hours straight. The place is massive and the number of pieces on display would have to run into the multiple thousands. I was considering claiming 10,000 or more, but that may have been an exaggeration, but I'm not sure. There are 4 extremely large floors of the stuff.
We decided that we needed a boat cruise up and down the Seine, which I admit I was very pleased I did. Having a guide point out the buildings and explain the amazing bridges was terrific. We saw Notre Dame church from the boat and decided that we would go and look at that when the boat trip finished. The architecture of this building was worth seeing.
We left there very footsore and tired and decided that we needed a nightcap. We found an Irish bar, staffed by Irishmen! In central Paris! We did have a couple of drinks and Chelsea spotted a bar down the street named The Australian Pub. Craving some Australian company and beer, we decided to check it out. As with the Irish pub, this place was also staffed by Australians, but the customers were all French. The beer on tap, was of course Fosters, which the manager, not surprisingly, confided that no Australians ever drank in there. However, there were a few different stubbies in fridges - mainly Tooheys and my favorite of Coopers Pale Ale - there was not a CUB beer in sight - no Melbourne, no VB and no draught!
Of course, being in Paris went to our heads and we eventually got to bed at around 12.30am I think, all of us having imbibed a little too much.
The next day, after checking out of the hotel, with a not too healthy Chelsea in tow, we made our way to the Eiffel tower. After spending some time feeding Chelsea hot potato chips as she lay on the lawn under the shade of a tree, we purchased tickets to go to the top. We passed through the turnstiles and were herded onto a lift which we could not escape from. This was disappointing as we had wanted to take the stairs and make the claim that we had climbed the tower. The lift took us straight to the 2nd level and we climbed out to take a look. I knew instantly that I was not going to the very top and Gloria made her decision along the same lines shortly afterwards. For a man who suffers very badly from vertigo, I was a long way up. Brilliant view, but my legs were shaking and I could not go to the edge of the observation deck. We took the stairs down to the Restaurant level and back up to the 2nd level. Our legs told us that taking the lift may not have been so bad after all. Chelsea decided that she was going to take the lift to the top, but the queue was so large she decided not to.
So off to the train station we went to take the train to Roma.
Why was Paris a city of contrasts?
The old city is one of stunning beauty. You have to walk around the place with it's buildings and parks to appreciate just how good it is - photos just do not show how good it is.
In contrast, the people we met, with a few exceptions, are not beautiful in character. Certainly I have never seen so many beautiful wommen who know how to dress and use makeup - they were stunning. Unfortunately, on the whole, the attitude of the French towards English speaking people was, to be diplomatic, very disappointing. We did meet one couple in a shop opposite the Louvre who were very, very nice, but on the whole we were not made to feel welcome at all.
We hope you are all enjoying work and the weather back home - we are enjoying the weather and not working over here...
