As I said, we wanted to mix a bit of nostalgia – all the many features of Paris we’ve been to before – with as many new features as possible.  On the top of our new favourites was Sainte Chapelle with its stunning stained glass windows and the Conciergerie with its revolution-era prison.  Lunch in front of the Hotel de Ville, drinks and dinner in the Latin Quarter, as you do.  Yes, we’re in peak season for the tourists and you have to show great patience, not just with the waiters.  But the magic of Paris never fails and we collapsed in our small, cheapish and slightly cute hotel on the Rue de Rivoli absolutely dusted from a long day.    

 

A girl with her map, hat and big cannons is hard to resist

 

 

The next day we set a world record for walking in Paris but what a wonderful way to soak in all the charms of the city.  So for those who know, a walk from the Hotel de Ville to the courtyard of the monstrous Louvre museum, through the Tuileries Gardens to the Place de la Concorde (off with their heads!), down the tree lined Champs Elysee, possibly the most famous street in the world, the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais, all the way to the Arc de Triomphe.  That walk down the perfectly straight and symmetric backbone of the city to me highlights the beauty, history and architecture of Paris.  The only slight problem we had was that because we were only a few days from Bastille Day the Champs Elysee was lined with grandstands for their famous parade.

 

A gargoyle hovering over Isle de la Cite

But wait, there’s more.  Down to the Palais de Chaillot for the traditional elevated view of the Eiffel Tower, then down the steps and under the Tower itself (thankfully no need to go up it again as the lines were awful), a walk down the picturesque Champs de Mars park to the Ecole Militaire where Napoleon went to military school and which still shows bullet holes in the stone walls from the revolution.  Then finally on to the Hotel de Invalides for their great military museum and Napoleon’s tomb.  Buggered beyond repair but giddy over all our experiences on the day, we retreated to our hotel, had a local dinner and collapsed in a state of blissful paralysis.

I was fascinated to compare Paris to my memories of ‘the good old days’ when I led tours around the city and thought I knew everything.  For one thing, the people have changed – many families with young children visiting the city, many Asian tourists and many Africans working the streets illegally trying to sell you all sorts of stuff.  Yes, it was expensive but not necessarily more than Sydney.  We didn’t experience any of the rude Parisians from yesteryear and most people we exchanged with in shops and restaurants all spoke goodish English.  True, the service could be a bit slow at times, and the waiters seemed a bit indifferent to their customers, but maybe we’re a bit spoiled in Bangkok.

The next day featured only three main events and they held plenty of variety.  We waited in the wintery cold and rain for an hour to visit Quasimodo and the gargoyles on the bell tower of Notre Dame and then after lunch spent the entire afternoon in the Musee d’Orsay seeing the Impressionist artists.  With a full tank of stamina and dogged persistence against the crowds this was a rewarding experience as we stood in front of paintings by such well known artists as Van Gogh, Pissarro, Manet, Monet, Degas, Cezanne and Lautrec, amongst many.  Okay, I don’t need to go back for a while but it was pretty cool and Julie absolutely loved it.  We finished the day with a visit to the hilltop bohemian community of Montmartre for dinner and views of the city’s lights.

We continued to absorb more of Paris over the next day and a half, despite the soggy and cold conditions (you call this summer?), including a trip up to the top of the Arc de Triomphe and a visit inside the glamorous and over-the-top opulence of the Opera House, our first time inside.  We stopped for coffee in many crowded sidewalk cafes with their tables virtually touching each other and visited quaint little walking streets, hidden palace gardens and forgotten 16^th century churches.  We had no choice but to buy warmer clothes on the Champs Elysee and covered a lot of ground on their efficient metro.  All good.

One of the highlights of the week was the Bastille Day parade.  We joined the throngs, elbowed in for our spot, waited a couple of hours and then enjoyed all the pomp and ceremony of the French celebrating their independence in their own special way.  But this is mainly a military parade (we could only think of China and Russia that do something similar) with its loud fighter jet flyovers, marching soldiers (including one group with camouflage paint on their face), tanks and equipment.  I summarized it by saying there were a lot of men wearing funny hats but Julie said it was just a lot of trucks.  Interestingly, the French people do not wear the red, white and blue, no flags, no cheering, nothing to show their patriotism.  Still, a great experience.

Unfortunately all good things must end and I spent the next couple of days with customers at this massive event for about 2,500 people while Julie continued her quest to hit all the shopping galleries and every possible museum in Paris including the Louvre, the Modern Art Museum and l’Orangerie.  Our shopping baskets and our memory cards were full by the end of the week but we left with a refreshed love for the city, its people and culture. 

One final note, on our return to Bangkok we each fished around for our spare Thai Baht to pay our taxi, only to realise that both of us had been robbed of our stored Baht during the week, probably by housecleaners in one of our two hotels.  They probably saw this strange currency with lotsa zeros and said thank you very much, not knowing their total haul was fairly modest.  Well, as they say in Paris, c’est la vie.

And for a gallery of French silly hats….