The second incarnation of my blog
We dropped Zac off at Pete’s Mums on Friday evening, which was painful for us and Zac. At the crack of dawn on Saturday we got the train to Kings Cross and then a short walk across the road to St Pancras for breakfast and then the Eurostar to Paris.
Prices on Paris don’t seem to be affected by the recession and hotels are charging plenty so we decided to go for something nice. After checking in (much earlier than we should have, it’s always worth asking), we headed out for a long amble around the sights, including Shakespeare And Co and a couple of beers and coffees (one at the cafe in the picture). We stumbled upon a fascinating flea/antique market that was packed. After a lovely and surprisingly good value meal we went to see Carla Bruni in concert.
A packed theatre saw Carla, a pianist and a guitarist produce an extremely full sound. She doesn’t have the strongest of voices, but did well and the background mini-arty films were a good accompaniment. We had been to the theatre a few years ago to see Julien Clerc but I don’t remember everything being so red – the carpets, the walls, the chairs, curtains and parts of the roof! Quite claustrophobic really.
Mr Sarkosy was present, but I couldn’t see him, but he was actually cheered by the crowd!
On Sunday we went to a rubbish flea market at Montreuil, saw some fit firemen swimming in The Seine, walked and walked and ended up at the restaurant we had eaten at on Christmas Day 2 years ago. It was another mad lunch – a long boozy affair with ad-lib music from the old folk present.
After a power nap, we made our way to Montmartre and then went into a nice looking tiny bar that had a happy hour. Despite no sign to indicate anything other than a neighbourhood bar, it seemed to attract gay guys, including a group of 4 English gay blokes who spoke about themselves very highly.
On Monday we looked around the shops and a photographic exhibition before having a late lunch (where a guy was sitting alone and looked like a model). We walked past a slightly overweight guy who looked like someone from the band Blue walking along a street only to find out that Blue were playing a concert nearby! We had a slow walk to the Gare Du Nord and the journey home.
Photos to follow…
Many French blokes are just sexy, especially waiters it seems.
A simple coffee or beer is still a silly price.
The first language of Montmartre now seems to be Arabic.
Americans don’t seem to understand that other people exist! Two women having a phone conversation with a third friend on speakerphone in a cafe. Annoying!