Exploring The City of Lights
Most of our morning was spent trying to get me a flight home (that didn’t take 57 hours with 15 stopovers and cost more than the Crown Jewels). With a bit of help from my friends (thanks Sam and Chelle) I eventually found one, a feeling akin to winning the lottery, although the money is going out not coming in. Just great to have it all sorted. After much deliberation (and prayer) Molly has decided to stay and we’ll Zoom her in for Mum’s funeral. Her next stop is with some beautiful friends in Mallorca and then she’ll head to Kassel in Germany for her uni work to begin. I’m planning to come back and join Molly from Venice so we can finish the trip together.
After all that Googling I was goggle-eyed and famished so we wandered back down to the little crepe place we’d spotted last night on the Champs-Élysées and indulged in some incredibly delicious crepes. Made while we waited, I had lemon and sugar while Molly’s was oozing with gooey Nutella. Tres bon!
We could see the Arc de Triomphe way off in the distance and as we made a bee-line for this most famous of all the arches, its magnitude became more and more apparent. Standing dramatically at the end of the avenue, covered with war hero-honouring inscriptions and adorned with detailed statues, it rises fifty metres from the pavement and is really something to behold. We took way too many photos and then strolled back along the pretty avenue to the high end of town, overflowing with designer shops - Yves Saint Laurent, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Givenchy, Dior. We had fun window shopping. Visiting one of these chic establishments required queuing for entry and each doorway had its own bouncer, complete with designer suit, earpiece and walkie-talkie. We decided to have a peep in the Dior store and after a short wait we were given the once-over and asked why we wanted to go in. “Oh, we just want to have a bit of a quick squiz” (or words to that effect) seemed to satisfy entry requirements and we were ushered through the pristine doors into the huge triple-storey expanse filled with meticulously manicured displays of handbags, clothes, perfumes, shoes and sunglasses. There were staff members in suits or pretty black dresses EVERYWHERE - possibly one for every customer - and as we browsed we felt all attentive eyes on us. There were many things of great beauty to behold, as we glided up and down the swirling timber staircase, dousing ourselves in Dior fragrances and trying on glasses. The prices were enough to make your toes curl, with a pair of rubber sandals, setting you back a cool €200, the cheapest shoes in the shop. One overcoat Molly liked, could have been hers for a mere €4500 (that’s AU$6517!!!) You’d have to love that coat so much you’d wear it every day for the rest of your life.
Next on our tourist hit list was La Tour Eiffel. Molly is an expert navigator and managed to get us to the iconic Parisian tower without a hitch. It was over 30 degrees again and we were sweating like gypsies with mortgages after all that walking. We stopped at a little ice cream van and ordered a couple of cups of gelato. I hadn’t looked at the ice creams until after I’d paid and when I did, realised we had been seriously duped. My cup had a dessertspoon of ice cream in it if it was lucky. Just a mouthful.
In terms of ascending the tower there were no tickets left online but we were assured we’d be able to get tickets at the gate. It was a sweaty 1-2 hour wait in the hot sun so we decided to grab a baguette and find a patch of grass, hopefully in the shade, to refresh ourselves and try again later.
Boyfriends of Instagram were out in force and some of the poses their puffy-lipped subjects were pulling had surely been practised repeatedly in the mirror. They were quite hilarious.
A guy sitting next to us was flying his drone above the tower and getting some amazing footage, despite confusing all the pigeons. Molly found a webpage that listed all the bubblers in Paris (including sparkling water fountains) so followed directions to our nearest one and filled our water bottles. Genius.
After lunch the ticket queues hadn’t lessened so we decided to come back tonight, in the hope it might be less crowded.
The prospect of a half hour walk back to our apartment in the blistering heat wasn’t exactly filling us with desire, so we thought we’d try for a bus. We used Google translate to ask a French family at the bus stop whether we could tap on the bus with our credit cards, like we’d done in England. They were not very keen to dispense advice, offering a shoulder shrug and showing us their tickets, they said “maybeee?” The first bus failed to show up but when we finally did get on, the driver told us “no ticket, no entry” and showed us the door.
Molly has been keen to hire some E-bikes the whole trip but we’ve never been able to find 2 together. After the bus fiasco, we came upon a whole row of bikes and decided we’d give them a go. It would have to be better than walking!
Molly led the way, map in hand and though I was nothing short of terrified, tackling massive Paris intersections on the busy roads, dodging cars and danger, I have to admit it was pretty fun and we got home in one piece as a bonus. Dropping the bikes back, Molly leant her bike against another one, which caused a domino effect, toppling the whole row of bikes over at once, narrowly missing a parked car. I think I found it funnier than she did, especially having to right them all in the steamy weather.
Our plan was to have dinner and then take on the tower and we were keen for some authentic French fare. Our host had recommended a place just up the road. After a requisite nanna nap, it was 10pm when we arrived (there were still others arriving after us!) so we are really on Europe time now. I ordered coq au vin, knowing it was French but not really knowing what it was, and Molly had ordered a French-style ravioli. I was given an empty bowl and spoon, adding to the mystery, before being presented with a copper pot full of potatoes and other large objects floating in a dark brown sauce. I ascertained it was chicken I was eating but there was so much of it! An entire bird chopped up in that pot I’m sure. Authentic French that’s for certain.
Molly’s feeling a little off today and I think she may have a touch of sunstroke. It’s seriously hot here. So we skipped the Tower and headed home.
Time to get some sleep now before I wing my way back to Sydney tomorrow.
