oh la la

due to the burglary, I wasn’t allowed, by hubby to mention I was off to Paris. Who knows who's reading my blog. (can I have my jewellery and camera back, Mr Robber if your reading this ?)

Poor Hubby was off to Paris just hours after our burglary for work. He had three windows to replace in torrential rain. Then he was off for a week of  early starts and late nights to bed. I then took the Eurostar to catch up with him for a couple of days. I must admit over the years we have been spoilt with our hotels accommodation next to the Champs-Elysees. This year we were on the other side of the River Seine and in a district I’d never visited before. But then sometimes it’s good to be taken out of your comfort zone and try something new. As I was going to be on my own for one night and an entire day. I had made plans to fill my time. But as a result of eating something dodgy a few of hubbys team had been suffering the trots. The day after I arrived it hit Hubby. There was no way he could sit in the hire bus for two hours in Parisian traffic to get to work. He had to be near a toilet at all times. So I ended up with Mr miserable and his dickey tummy all day.

We stopped for lunch in St Germain-de-pres at our favourite restaurant.

I love the fact that just as you get to the end of your first plate full, they bring out another one. Mmmmm

I wanted to sample the famous sorbet ice cream at Berthillon on the Island next to the Notre Dame. I went for passion fruit and coconut. Mr miserable declined.

The passion fruit flavour made me pull funny faces, it was so sharp.

When we got to The Marais district I was still peckish so I had ANOTHER ice cream. Hubby declined again.

I abandoned him in the end after he wanted to return to the hotel and have a lie down. I had not travelled all that way, to go back to a room that I could neither sit or lay down in. I didn’t much fancy having to stand in a “smelly” room for hours, whilst the sun was shining outside and there were 100’s of shops waiting for me to discover them. After I dumped hubby I finally made some purchases. But there wasn’t much to buy in Paris. Everything was SOOO expensive, and of poor quality. Ballet style shoes in the sale for £59 !!!! and they were crap. My £4 Primark ones were better.

It was quite a relief not to have to lug my big heavy camera around. After my Canon 7D had been knicked I was left with my small point and shoot. It was great to just have it tucked in my bag. The 7D was far too heavy for me and I know I would have suffered carrying it around all day.

On our last day in Paris we queued for over an hour to see dead people.

In fact 6 million dead people.

People have been coming here since 1867. There are masses of open quarries under Paris from which the stone for the buildings was extracted. In the 18th Century after the insanitary conditions of the cemeteries and the huge number of dead due to disease. It was decided that the bones from the cemeteries of Paris would be laid to rest in tunnels. These are known as The Catacombs of Paris. It was a long way down and got wet and slippery in places.

 

I leave this post with a hastily, snatched picture of the biggest afro I have ever seen. I doubt she needs a pillow at night !!!