Christopher Rowe

Thought I’d start this post while commuting from Paris to EuroDisney.

Being our last day in Paris we thought we would treat ourselves, and when it comes to treats it is hard to beat letting ones inner child escape, so Disneyland won out.

It is difficult to accept our four day stay in Paris is nearing its end. I’ve grown very comfortable with my morning routine; leaving the hotel at 7am, with the morning air chilled crisply, donned with my long black coat, matching scarf. I felt like a MI6 assassin as I slipped on my leather gloves, making fists with my hands as I did, ensuring a snug fit for each finger tip. Once the James Bond overture faded from mind I’d walk on down to our local cafe, the usual order, a short latte with croissant and sit on the park bench facing the Seine river, the Eiffel tower behind me.

When visiting foreign countries I do my best to fit in; I do not particularly like the idea of walking around with a sign on my head saying ‘gullible tourist’. Michelle will attest to this, for each and every time I get frustrated as she stops in her tracks and pulls out her map… I hate it.

So it was very much to my delight when with a croissant in one hand, a latte in the other, a local, a mother and child, stopped to ask me for directions. Naturally I couldn’t understand a word she said so I just smile and replied ‘English?’. She understood that much, but probably not a whole lot more, with a short smile returned she politely shook her head and said ‘noh’. Alas my first French conversation was over with no more than two words exchanged. But… I had fooled a local to thinking I was one of them!

A short walk from our hotel was the Tour Eiffel. An impressive feat of engineering one which you could not help but be mesmerised by. Its industrial metallic frame standing proud above the Paris skyline (by no means by accident, since legislation prevents buildings taller than 5 floor being built within miles of the tower).

We continued our Sunday stroll following the river, past the Eiffel Tower in the direction of the Louvre.

Paris is so peaceful on a Sunday, no traffic congestion, barely a car on the road. It left you feeling as though you had Paris all to yourself.

Beginning to realise we may of bitten off more than we could chew, especially straight after a 14 hour flight with sporadic sleep we started to wonder whether we would ever make it to the Louvre. The journey soon became one of wits, accepting that we had already gone beyond halfway, I reasoned with myself that it was a far shorter journey to walk on towards the Louvre than it would be to turn around. I just hoped that my subconscious didn’t then argue the point that then I’d have to walk back! Fortunately it submitted to my reasoning and not long after we arrived. Unfortunately, neither myself nor my subconsciousness realised how extensive the Louvre was, read, how much more walking was involved within the Louvre itself. (my legs are quivering as I type this)

As we descended through the glass pyramid on the surface into the Louvre, I very quickly felt like a rat dropped into a maze; the Louvre was massive – where do you start? We made our way to the information desk to obtain a map. Unfortunately, the map made about as much sense to me as the metro maps did. In fact, the Louvre map was more complicated since Michelle, who is a wiz when it comes to navigating about metro systems also struggled at the complexities of the Louvre.

Ultimately we managed our way through it, finding Leonardo DaVinci’s Mona Lisa, a variety of wall art depicting Jesus Christ and various periods from the Old Testament, and a rather extensive Egyptian exhibit, complete with a rotting mummy behind glass.

We then limped our way back towards the hotel, arriving later in the evening with just enough energy for dinner before calling it a night. Our first night in Paris, indeed the trip and we were already run off our feet and with that, we motioned to take the hop-on, hop-off bus the following day.