Strasbourg in Strasbourg

 

It’s always good to eat the local speciality, so of course this was the obvious one. In the Alsace region of France lies an area with a lot of German influence, being close to the border. We had taken the train, and Audrey and Leslye had driven, with our large suitcases, to Strasbourg. Deciding it was a pleasant day and after our long train journey, it would be a good idea to walk. Not actually getting lost, we ended up being quite warm after our 40 minute walk to find Rue des Bitches (honestly!) and our Hotel Cap, which had vinyl flooring and a little cupboard of a toilet and shower cubicle. However, it also had a little cooktop and fridge the same size as the apartment we had just been in. The bed was comfortable and I had enough space to do Body Balance the following morning. Dutchy was pleased it even had a TV, so we watched a dubbed Cléopâtre mini-series and I dozed off for half an hour. These replenishing naps are becoming a habit.

When the girls arrived we set off to walk about the town, amazed at how warm it was. Apparently France has been experiencing an unusual heatwave, and because it’s rare, adequate cooling, or even fans, are seriously lacking. Strasbourg is famous for the stork as its symbol, many of which are available as souvenir purchases. I am actually being fussy about what I buy in the way of souvenirs the more I travel, and try to choose practical things.

After some walking, a drink was in order. We sat across from the cathedral, which is an impressive structure. Before I enjoyed the local crémant Alsace, a sparkling wine from the area, I had a delicious ice-cream of chocolate and Rocher in a cone while Dutchy continued his beeralogue.

• Picon beer – dark golden brown brew with a creamy head and a few bubbles. A very smooth drink with a taste of orange – another winner. Even Sandi surprisingly enjoyed a sip of it. The photo shows the surprising sip.  After much discussion and translation, it was discovered that Picon beer is actually a local beer with an additive. In this case it was one of Dutchy’s favourites, 1664, with a shot of Picon, an orange syrup. You can buy this, something we might look for.

 

Dinner at a little restaurant, after much more walking trying to choose a place, was pleasant. We tried a local specialty called “Tarte Flambé” or “Flammkuchen” the name of which I kept calling “Fluunken Schtuunken” which made everybody laugh. As a pizza, it was an almost an invisible crust if you compare it with our thin crust. Dutchy thought it was transparent! Scant toppings meant it was a once-only experience, though it was admittedly tasty. Sometimes expectations can spoil the actuality. I decided I had to try the choucroute, which we know by the German name of sauerkraut. This cooked cabbage conglomeration was okay, and accompanied by some sausage and ham and some other meat. The chocolate fondant was actually just some chocolate cake with a thin custard sauce over it. Where was the lovely centre oozing out?

Returning to our previous spot at the brasserie near the cathedral, because the light show was due to start, finding a table was a lot more difficult. Many people were sitting at tables, but facing the cathedral, so there were plenty of spare chairs on the other side of their tables. We found a spot and asked if we could utilise some of these chairs. Most people were very pleasant, but we approached one couple who were sitting at two tables. When we asked if we could have the other table the woman with the pursed lips said “no” which surprised me. I assumed they were waiting for someone else. Later they left, before the light show, without anyone having ever joined them. We didn’t have a chance to claim the territory because it was pounced on as they were leaving. Fortunately the older couple who had laid claim to it were happy for us to have one of the tables, but I was flabbergasted by the meanness of the previous occupant. I felt like running after her and telling her she should be staying in the same street as our hotel “rue des Bitche.”

Illumination of the Cathédrale de Notre Dame de Strasbourg (Our Lady’s), was set to classical music, such as Swan Lake and The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. Computer programmed, it was an impressive show that lasted about 15 minutes, then to our surprise it was repeated five minutes later, and again for a third time!

 

Pastimes in Paris

Le pique-nique dans le parc:

An impressive supermarket merlot and bordeaux added to the picnic in the park at Parc Montsouris, where we were entertained by some jugglers practising their art, and amused by a guy who wanted to join us, probably because he saw the bottle/s of wine.

Afternoon naps are becoming de rigueur for us, to refresh us for the evenings. Oh well, we are on holidays.

Ooh-la-la:

Welcome to Moulin Rouge, where the women are scantily clad and the men are over-dressed. A most expensive evening, but one experience that we felt we must do. I had already seen Folies Bergères twenty years ago, but hadn’t seen this one. I think since the movie with Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor, Moulin Rouge became the most sought-after of this type of venue. For €102 each, we also received half a bottle of champagne, but the glasses were only wine glasses, not even flutes!

The show, 1¾ hours, was entertaining, with all cameras banned and checked in at the door. Scanning the room, we estimated it to hold about 700 people. It would certainly cost a lot to produce, with its huge cast and spectacular costumes, but value for money is questionable. Again, like Madame Tussaud’s in London, it’s a once or twice in a lifetime event. However, I found it a bit sexist that we saw a lot of bare female breasts but only one or two glimpses of male chests for the entire performance.

Divine decadence:

While in Paris we have been buying a “carnet” of ten Métro tickets, meaning a one-way trip costs €1.25 instead of the individual price of €1.60. Today we chose the day-pass for €6.30, as we knew we were going to be taking at least five trips. Our first stop was at Plaisance, to re-visit our favourite patisserie in Paris from last May, “Ellini” where we bought a selection of deliciously divine decadent cakes to share later with Audrey and Leslye. Then we went to Montparnasse to have a look at the Tour Montparnasse and share a millefeuille and a réligieuse accompanied by some tea from my thermos.

Toilet humour:

By this stage I needed to go to the toilet, so we went in search of them at the station, which is a large station as well as the Métro. Using them costs money, in this case €0.5. I handed over the money and the woman gave me a token in exchange, but I tried to find a slot in a door. Someone had to show me that the token was for the turnstile to get into the toilet area. Well-policed, if you wanted a shower it would cost (I think) €4. I suppose that helps maintain the amenities. Actually, last night I was surprised that after paying all that money for Moulin Rouge there was a woman sitting outside the toilets happy to accept tips. No way Jose!

Curry in a hurry:

After spending time finding the “passages couverts” which I thought were something secret, but turned out to be arcades, we were disappointed to find that most of them were closed, again due to the summer. We wonder how many businesses survive with their lengthy summer closures.

In one, called Passage Brady, there were many Indian restaurants. We settled for one in the open air, which was set up in a cobble-stoned laneway with green “grass” carpet, ornate chairs and plastic flowers. It was quite comfortable, and although Dutchy’s chicken tandoori was a bit dry (Dutchy adds that it spent its last three weeks of life in the Sahara Desert), my chicken curry was delicious and tender, and the accompanying “nan fromage” which was a cheesy naan bread, was really lovely.

J’arrive, j’arrive!!!

That cup of coffee nearly caused a divorce…

Leslye and Audrey came with their car to take our suitcases to Strasbourg to make it easier for us when we caught the train. It’s amazing how a series of events can lead to catastrophe. They were a little late, which meant we lost a little time. Then I decided I’d like a cup of plunger coffee before we left, as if you buy coffee it can cost $6. Another trip to the toilet and cleaning the plunger and cups added to the delay, and suddenly we were running late. We still had to get to the Métro, then get to Gare de l’Est and then make our way to the area for “Grandes Lignes” where the TGV would leave from. Because we had finished a carnet of tickets, we still had to buy two singles. Of course the machine was full of coins and wouldn’t accept ours. A woman was using the other one so we had to wait while she finished. So €3.20 later we had our tickets and were racing down the stairs (being careful not to fall) to the platform, where fortunately there was a train almost ready to depart.

I had inadvertently assumed there were only three Métro stops until ours, but oh dear, I was thinking of Gare d’Austerlitz, which is the station we would take to go to Nola and Tony’s in Argenton-sur-Creuse. Gare de l’Est, an enormous station that serves trains heading east, such as ours to Zurich via Strasbourg, is another seven stops away. Now we were really pushing it. Looking at our tickets, the train was due to leave at 10.24 and we were supposed to check in ten minutes prior. If you arrived after 10.19, boarding was not guaranteed. Bloody hell, it was already after 10 and we still had about five stops to go. Stress levels were rising rapidly by this stage. You could see Dutchy getting angry, though he wasn’t actually yelling, and I was upset but not actually crying. He is right I suppose. Leaving early you are always on time, but then you have to wait around, but this feeling of anxiety isn’t fun either, and it’s certainly not good for the smooth-running of a relationship.

Some minutes and many prayers later we made it to the station, but time was rapidly running out, especially when we had to go up stairs and find the Voie or platform, from which the train would leave. It was already 10.18 and I lost it. Imagine me running around trying to find where to go, being calm no longer. Finally, with some help from a workman, we found out the train had been delayed and was due to leave at 10.34. Thank God for that! It hadn’t even had a platform allocated to it yet.

People were milling around, waiting for the notification to appear on the screen of departures. I was then so relieved that I burst into tears. Travelling can be fun; travelling can be stressful; so can life. Deal with it, princess. I said that, not Dutchy, though maybe that’s what he thought, coming from Mars as he does.

TGV Première classe:

We are now sitting in First Class on the TGV (Trains à Grandes Vitesse) which basically means Very Fast Trains, and it’s true. We are whizzing through the countryside at a rate of about 200kms an hour. We are now both calm, I have been typing on the laptop in air-conditioned comfort, and we are still married. My saving grace was reminding him to take the last of the Jim Beam and Coke Zero to have in transit, which he has just poured, at 11.25am. Well it’s after noon somewhere.

Ironically, when we booked the tickets on the internet, Hanis found that if we booked through a French site, the tickets were cheaper, and also we got First Class for the same or less than Second Class. Go figure! Good leg room and wider seats make for comfortable travelling. You can recline the seats without disturbing other passengers, and we even have a power point. However, one needs to actually put the adaptor with the computer in order to use it. I wonder who didn’t do that? At least that one can’t be attributed to moi. There’s 1½ hours of battery which should be sufficient.

Why Princess and Quiquinou?

Dutchy prefers to group things together so they don’t get lost and you always know where they are, thus he packed it in the suitcase, which is with the girls, with all the other chargers and adaptors. Some would call him anal retentive, which is why we call him “Quiquinou”, which is a nickname short for “enquiquineur” meaning fussbudget, which suits Dutchy down to the ground. He even likes it!!

For anyone who knows me, they understand why Princess is my nickname, but for anyone else, the name was coined during my travels with my sister in 2003, when we were at Disney World in Orlando, Florida, USA. We had just enjoyed the Drawing Studio where artists were working on the current animated movie called “Brother Bear.” We then came out to the shop area, where there were all sorts of items you could purchase relating to animation. I had already chosen a book called “How to Draw Princesses” which gave instructions to draw the Disney princesses, when a little girl walked past in a character outfit. I said something to her about being a princess, and you could see her light up.

My sister Nola laughed at me because she remembered me once saying that maybe I could marry Prince Charles to become a princess, as he was the only prince I really knew of, and he had done some schooling at Timbertop in Victoria. She thought he was too old for me, but he ended up marrying Lady Diana, who shared 1^st July as her birthday, only five years younger than me!

Paris

 

Paris by Night – Seine River Cruise:

 

Advertised as a Buffet à volonté, the cold meat and salad didn’t really make the grade, and being a captive audience there was no choice but to drink exorbitantly priced drinks, or risk losing your table. However, despite those minor inconveniences, we had a fabulous time and were afforded brilliant photo opportunities for Paris landmarks by night. Some of the shots of the Eiffel Tower were suitably postcard-like.

We were supposed to have “apéro,” short for aperitifs, or pre-dinner drinks, at our apartment (that never seems to lose [Toulouse] its edge) but the girls were late and Dutchy was over at the supermarket buying some cereal and yoghurt for breakfast. So it was a mad panic to get to the Métro and run along the banks of the Seine to be at the River’s King boat for embarkation, only to have to wait for ages to board! At least this way we were on first and were able to get a table.

All of us had a coloured wristband that was iridescent, so when we finally “set sail” they lit up beautifully. It was only later we discovered the significance of the different colours; red was if you were attached, yellow, not sure, and green was apparently available. I didn’t know, I swear, but it was funny because mine was green.

We met some interesting Brazilian people and enjoyed taking many happy snaps. Monica spoke English, French and Brazilian Portuguese, while her friend Marco, who was on holidays from the French Foreign Legion in Somalia, having been with the Legion for ten years, spoke French and Portuguese.

 

 

 

 

 

Mounting Montmartre:

 

Climbing all the many stairs up to Montmartre makes me realise this is an area I wouldn’t want to live in. We like to pretend that one day we could afford an apartment in Paris, but it’s a bit of a joke, because we wouldn’t actually want to live in a broom closet, which would be all we could get if we could at all. Then there’s another part of me that says yes, when I write the book that makes me famous or when Dutchy wins the $29 million he has dreamt about, then sure we could, and it might be a $2 million dollar property. How big can you dream?

Our late lunch was going to be at Au Bon Coin, a little Parisian restaurant; inspired as we were to go there because Dutchy’s favourite website to peruse is Leboncoin, where he looks at motorbikes and properties in France, and continues to dream. This dream was a dud, because it was closed for summer, so we ended up at the swimming pool. Not actually, but the name of the restaurant was La Piscine. We had an enjoyable lunch, but required a half-hour nap before the night’s activities.

 

 

Fancy Dining at La Marée:

 

What a wonderful fine dining experience we had in the rue Faubourg St Honoré. All dressed up and raring to go, we met for pre-dinner drinks and a photo shoot at the Parc Monceau. Audrey and Leslye provided the champagne as my belated birthday drink before heading off to La Marée in an exclusive part of town.

Dutchy said he knew he was in a fancy place when he went to the amenities, and there were individual face washers to utilise as handtowels for the clientele at the basins.

We had a “formule” or set menu, where we each had a choice of items for entrée, main and dessert. Thoroughly impressed with all courses, Dutchy said he couldn’t remember a better meal. High praise, richly deserved. We enjoyed a chilled red Beaujolais for €29 ($40) ouch.

 

 

 

 

From London to Paris

Lost in London (again):

 

Before breakfast I decided to go for a half-hour walk for three reasons:

1) to work up an appetite for the buffet

2) to exercise and

3) to work out where we should have walked the other night to avoid a circuitous route to the hotel.

Scoring 2 out of 3, I certainly worked up an appetite during the hour-long walk and had plenty of exercise. On the 3^rd point however I failed dismally. Around the Belgravia area are many Places and Squares and lots of buildings painted in the shade of magnolia called Queen Anne white. Therein lay the problem; they all look the same! My orienteering skills wouldn’t work because it was cloudy, I couldn’t see the sun and work out which was north, and besides, it’s probably different in the northern hemisphere anyway.

 

The New Do:

 

Not Sandi, as one might expect, but Dutchy spent an hour at Headmaster, the hairdressing salon around the corner. The top of his hair, (sides and fringe Dutchy adds, to prove to our friends who have less hair that he has enough to annoy him) was really irritating him, as we found out when we viewed some of our photos from Mme Tussaud’s. He likes to be neat, so off to Charlotte who did a great job on his hair. He even has some Redken mousse called “Rock Sculpt” which he is learning how to apply successfully. Having finally started and published this blog, my next step is to add photos and maybe redesign the setup, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

 

 

 

 

The Hunt for Karaoke:

 

While I stayed in the hotel room to do some Body Balance (three times this week – and feeling really good for it), Dutchy was missing detective work so much that he sent himself on a mission to hunt out a karaoke venue for the evening. Armed with a map provided by the helpful reception staff, he wandered off to find JD’s Bar and Restaurant in Kennington Lane, Vauxhall. When he returned he said it would take us about 35 minutes to walk there, and assumed that it only opened in the evening.

Setting out, I put my high heel sandals in his backpack in case I wanted to upgrade my outfit once we got there. Down Vauxhall Bridge Road and over the Thames to the seedier side of town we went, arriving at JD’s to find it still closed. The bloke in the Royal Oak Hotel next door had no idea how long it had been closed (somebody needs to update these internet sites), but suggested there was another Royal Oak Hotel further down the road with karaoke on Saturdays. He had quite a thick accent so the name of the road was “Fitz-something Street” as I couldn’t ask him a 4^th time to repeat it.

Glad I was wearing runners, on we ventured and came upon The Dog House (Dutchy wants me to add that it is a Pub, as if you couldn’t tell – what else would it be? Maybe a home for lost dogs who happen to speak human? A place where many men live? ) Directions were given to Fitzalan Street. By this time it was almost an hour after we had left, so I was quite hungry. Sorry, they don’t serve food at this Pub, but they have takeaway menus that you can order from local outlets. In the end we went for a walk and found Pizza Forno, where Dutchy had the Cod fish and chips and I had a Chicken Fillet Burger, both of which were very tasty.

Back to the pub at 7.30 to have a drink and wait for the karaoke guy, who hadn’t even arrived yet.  I had a small bottle of a Cabernet Sauvignon, which I sat on for the whole evening, while Dutchy continued his beeralogue. Of course, one must buy “a pint” which is about the equivalent of 2 pots.

• John Smith’s Extra Smooth  – cold, silky-smooth, full-flavoured Bitter – delicious.
• Stella Artois – standard – not quite as good as the Black from the other night.
• Kronenberg 1664 – a long-time favourite of Dutchy’s, which he can’t describe objectively at the moment because it is just one he likes and has never thought about it before, so next time he has one he will try to critique it.

A television was on at this quirky little pub, with the sound down. They have a trivia show tied in with the lottery. It reminded me a bit of Who Wants to be a Millionaire, and I was having fun choosing the answers, many of which were right, to my delight. The sports questions though – forget about them, especially when they were specifically related to England.

By the time the karaoke was set up and actually started at 9.25pm, it was nearly time for us to leave, as we had a long walk ahead of us. Dutchy was called up first and sang “Stuck in the Middle With You” by Stealers Wheel to a good crowd reaction, while they were all still reasonably sober. A bloke who sounded like Michael Caine asked me what I was going to sing. I said “Fever” to which he replied that it was some other bloke’s song. It’s funny how people get territorial at karaoke about “their” song, when it wasn’t theirs to begin with. I suggested that it was Michael Bublé’s and I was going to sing Peggy Lee’s version anyway.

Karaoke and Pub crowds – there are certain types and groups at all of them. The accents may change, but the demographics remain the same.

“Folsom Prison Blues” turned out to be double tempo, which meant less stage time for Dutchy. Mind you, the venue was elongated, with the karaoke down the back, a narrow walkway with barstools blocking the path somewhat, and we were near the window at the front.  My second song was Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” but Dutchy said the sound wasn’t up enough for my voice. His last song was “Evil Woman” by ELO, so he gave them a wide variety of songs. We found a shorter way home, taking less than 40 minutes, ready for a good night’s sleep.

 

Eurostar is a star:

 

What a pleasant way to travel from London to Paris. No airports and associated check-in times. We only had to check in half an hour before leaving from London St. Pancras International Station. Meanwhile, I was able to get a photo going into Platform 9 3/4! We really are having a Harry Potter festival. Even though we only had to travel five stations from Victoria to Kings Cross, it cost us £4 each. In future, it would be advisable to get a day pass for £2 more and do a little travelling around first. Of course, this would then entail leaving luggage somewhere. It would be better to leave it at your hotel, because it would cost £8 per piece at the Left Luggage at the station.

Although our seats were facing the wrong way (I like to face the direction in which I’m going), I got used to it as time went on. Besides, after 30 minutes we entered the Chunnel; 24 minutes later we were on French terra firma in bright sunshine. 1 hour and 10 minutes after that we arrived safely at Paris Gare du Nord. Clocks had to be put forward 1 hour, so our actual arrival was 18:07 pm, to be met by Leslye, with whom we had dinner in Paris last year!

 

 

 

 

An apartment in Paris!

 

Our friends Hanis, Audrey and Leslye, organised accommodation for us here in Paris. We had psyched ourselves up for a studio with a sofa bed, kitchenette and not much else, so we were pleasantly surprised with this funkily furnished apartment with a separate comfortable bed and a lounge. Dutchy estimates it at 26 square metres. It would probably fit into our pergola area, particularly as it is U-shaped where the staircase goes. We’re on the 1^st floor and Dutchy had to lug the cases up here. The best thing I discovered was a BATH! Small, but a bath nonetheless. I thought I was going to have to wait until we go to my cousin Amelia’s in Brighton on 1^st September. We are in the 13^th arrondissement near the Métro Station Place d’Italie.

Leslye stayed for awhile for a couple of drinks. We are looking forward to our “programme” devised by our friends to show us a different side to Paris, and also other areas of France.

 

 

 

 

Uh-oh! It’s a Bank Holiday:

 

Visited our first boulangerie ( bakery) today, where we bought a baguette, a cheese and bacon roll called Fiçelle Apero (or something similar), and some chouquettes, which are light choux pastries coated with sugar. The thermos I brought has proved fantastic, as in Paris a cup of tea or coffee in some areas is up to about $7. Planning to leave early to go to the Louvre is good, but actually doing it is another matter. Dutchy had promised that during this visit to Paris he would accompany me there, and actually go inside and get a bit of culture. However, we hadn’t known that if it is a Bank Holiday and all the shops are shut, what better activity would there be than to go to Le Louvre? We bought a carnet of 10 Métro tickets and made our way to Palais Royal Musée du Louvre. The 300 metre queues, after Madame Tussaud’s last week, left me cold. It was a beautiful sunny day so I suggested that maybe we could go tomorrow instead.  He was only too happy to oblige, and we decided we could walk and meander as we liked, and even if we got lost we could just find the nearest station and make our way back fairly easily.

Because our plans changed and the weather fined up, I needed a hat, which I purchased from one of the many vendors who set up blanket shops (that’s what I call it when they spread their wares on the ground near tourist venues). It’s a cute black one with some silver studs around the band. Could be useful for karaoke too. He wanted me to pay €15 but I just said no thanks and walked away. He suddenly lowered the price to €10, but I declined. None of the others had nice ones, so I thought if he was prepared to come down so quickly I would see what change I had. I therefore offered him 7€50 which he begrudgingly accepted.

Roamed up the Champs Elysées, and then headed over for the obligatory photos of La Tour Eiffel. Needing supplies, we wanted to go to the supermarket, but Carrefour was closed. We couldn’t find it anyway, but eventually made it back to our current place of residence, where I enjoyed a lovely bath after some Body Balance. Nice hair wash here, as the water is much softer.

 

Beer at McDonald’s!

 

Crazily, since we only have it in Melbourne once every couple of years, we went to Macca’s for dinner. I often tell people we are from Australia so they don’t confuse us with the English, and Dutchy really noticed the change in attitude after I had said where we were from. I had fun ordering in French. With their meal deal “Best of” you can opt for 1664 beer – how bizarre. If you upgrade you get a sub-normal sized can instead of the baby 200ml one.

 

 

 

 

My Precious:

 

As we walked from the Louvre towards the Arc de Triomphe, we remembered how last year we were approached by a guy who pretended to have found a ring and offered it to us for the price of a meal (sandwich and drink). We went along with it, just for a bit of a laugh, but this time we wanted to show one of them a lesson. Bring it on I thought. We were sitting on a seat having a cup of tea from my thermos, when a guy came up to us and oh what  a surprise, looked down and picked up a ring, showing it to us to ask if it was ours. I suggested he give it to the police, but he made signs for us to try it on, so Dutchy said he had something for him. He went into his pocket and took out his police ID and told the guy where to go. He ran off, tail between his legs. An American couple were laughing so we had a chat and apparently one of the team had grabbed his camera that was around his wrist, but he managed to shake him off. They were pleased that one of them had got some of what he deserved.

 

Aux Champs Elysées:

 

I feel a song coming on. Karaoke is not huge in France, malheureusement (unfortunately). Strolling down the Champs Elysées, I noticed that in some ways it is not as different as it used to be. Now that in Australia we have become a café culture, we are used to seeing people sitting outside venues drinking coffee. Again, as we become more global the differences between cultures are minimised. So why travel then? It’s still great being in another country, especially a foreign one where the language is something other than we are used to, seeing sights in person, particularly large ones e.g. temples, towers, natural wonders and so on.

The coffee here is not so enjoyable, especially at about $7 a cup, so my little trusty thermos helps save money with my Earl Grey tea. In our apartment (doesn’t that sound good?!) we have a coffee plunger where we can make coffee to suit our palates.

I looked in the Guerlain parfumerie, as our younger daughter loves “L’Instant de Guerlain” but the prices were outrageous.

 

 

 

La Tour Eiffel:

 

She is still beautiful, though this time we took our shots from a distance. I love the one we took of us in front of the tower last year, so this time we tried the one where I am holding the tower in my hand, thanks to Dutchy’s skilful photography.

 

 

 

Rest and Recuperation:

 

After all that walking the previous day, we decided on a go-slow. I also chose to delay the visit to the Louvre until our next visit to Paris. We have a program planned for us, so we want to be in tip-top shape. Dutchy’s idea of a “go-slow day” is to sit on his bum and do things on the computer, while of course mine is shopping!!!

Location, location, location – this apartment is directly opposite the doors to “Italie 2” which is a huge shopping mall containing a Carrefour supermarket, Go – a sports store (like Rebel), and 130 boutiques.  I was in shopping heaven, and was close enough to “home” that I could pop back over here for a spot of lunch before heading back for some more. That’s how cultural I really am, choosing shopping over art at the Louvre.

On my return trip, Dutchy suggested I take one of our walkie-talkies that we will be taking on the cruise, kindly given to us by my sister and brother-in-law last Christmas. When I saw something he might be interested in, I was able to call him and he came over. I found a – wait for it – large pearl necklace suitable for a Rocky Horror outfit that Dutchy wants when he sings “Sweet Transvestite” at our planned Rocky Horror fancy dress night next year.

My purchases were a semi-quaver necklace and a treble clef brooch, plus a nice red cardigan and a little black and red bustier which will be handy for my own Rocky Horror Magenta outfit.

 

 

 

 

Luscious Lunch:

 

Sure, you can go out to fancy restaurants to eat, but sometimes the simple options can be just as, if not more satisfying. Imagine if you will, a fresh baguette, which is a beautifully crusty long bread roll, smothered in pâté with some Brie cheese on the top. The flavours merge into a delicious taste sensation.

Sometimes we visit the patisserie or boulangerie to add something sweet, but here you can even buy some quite good specialty cakes at the supermarket.

 

Chinatown, my Chinatown:

 

This can’t be the only Chinatown in Paris. If it is, I am disappointed. At least in Melbourne there is a grand entrance in Little Bourke Street, announcing that you are definitely in Chinatown. We ended up at a restaurant called Boeuf Grillé for a fairly ordinary buffet. We needed our weekly fix of Chinese after having been hosting the karaoke at the Ming for a year.

 

Travels with Princess and Quiquinou

Kuala Lumpur Airport: In Transit:

Here we are, sitting in a terminal at Kuala Lumpur, awaiting our transfer to the second leg of our flight to London. Arriving at 6am local time, 2 hours earlier than Melbourne time, we found a good little spot to sit with non-reclining chaise longues, which allow us to sit with our legs outstretched. We changed some money so we could buy a coffee with Malaysian Ringgit. Approx $4 for a cappuccino but we have been utilising the notes for the massage chair. These are like the ones they have at some shopping centres for a ridiculous cost of $10 for 5 or 10 minutes. Here, for one MR you get 3 minutes, so I enjoyed 21 minutes for less than $2.50, which has helped prepare me for the next sector, still over an hour away.

Travel Then and Travel Now:

Once again, one has to remind oneself that the waiting at terminals is all part of the travel experience, and along the way you can meet interesting people, such as Tresan, a 26 year old returning to Australia after about 3 years overseas. I was telling her how different travel is these days, compared to when I first went and had to wait for ages to hear from anybody – writing a letter that took about ten days to get to Australia, and then if someone deigned to reply immediately, would arrive in England almost three weeks after the first letter had been penned. Now with facebook and emails, you could be at home instead of halfway across the world. We are in such a global society that the world has shrunk.

Writing: from Blogs to Books:

This is the first time I am doing my Trip Book electronically and this Word document is going to form the basis for my first-ever attempt at a blog. I used to think blogging was almost cheating as a way of getting published, but it is the way of the world now. The book “Julie and Julia” prompted me to realise that it is more about allowing people to have an opportunity to read what you have written. Meanwhile, I am working on my own book “A Year of Summers”©, which I started writing way back in 1986, but the time wasn’t right then. I had babies and then they were growing up. First I was concerned about what Mum and Dad might think, and then later I didn’t know what my two daughters would think. Now I think if I don’t do it I never will, so I have suggested to family and friends that anything in the book they don’t like is obviously fiction. Earlier this year when I used our timeshare at Nepean I decided that if I didn’t start writing my 1981 travel memoirs seriously this time I would give it up forever. Hence, as I am a deadline type of girl, it worked. I have temporarily given up reading while I write, and I have now written at least 55,000 words, a good start, and intend to continue during this trip as well. This is the year of creativity and writing!

Dangerous Escalators:

Years ago, in 2003, when my sister and I travelled, I had bought souvenirs in South Africa that were a little fragile. As we were two women on our own, we had to contend with our luggage. The escalators in the London Underground are extremely long and steep, so one of us would go down to the bottom, ready to retrieve the case that had been placed on the stair by the other sister. I was waiting for the suitcase when it teetered over and tumbled down. “My zebra!” I called out, but fortunately there was no damage to it when I later checked. However, the two giraffes kissing, a tribute to the memory of Mum and Dad, who had died in 2001, did not fare so well, as their necks were broken. (The statue, not my parents). Obviously the entwined giraffes were made of talc stone rather than the granite I had thought they were made from. The Underground, therefore, is dangerous for me. This time it was me who came tumbling down, another source of contention for very tired travellers. All I wanted was sympathy, but other people wanted to know how it happened. It was an accident, as if I’d deliberately do that.  The tea tree ointment I bought has been helpful for soothing and preventing infection. Remember, it could always be worse. We bought two tickets on the Heathrow Express for £21 each, which took us through to Paddington and then onto the Underground. Today we saw a price on a minicab. Door to door it could have cost about the same, and someone would not have had to contend with those escalators again. I know, at least it wasn’t stairs!

Premier Inn, Victoria, London:

Cadbury purple is what I will think of whenever I remember the Premier Inn. It is their signature colour and is on everything. The curtains in the room, the logo, the business cards, etc. Unfortunately when we arrived we had to walk up nine steps to get to reception, nine extremely big steps at the end of a long trip. At least the room is pleasant but comfortable and a reasonable size, but has no fridge or safe. There is neither exhaust fan nor power point in the en suite. After hours of walking a bath would be delightful, but the shower is a good size and water pressure is fair. Although we had been eating all day and night on the plane, I needed a little something for dinner. Dutchy was happy to have a shower and go to bed, so I popped down to the restaurant for some soup. Situated on the lower ground floor, the restaurant was very cosy and modern. The cream of broccoli soup was served in a white double-handled ramekin on a wooden board with a slab of oven-warm tiger bread and butter in a small dish. It was very tasty and just what I needed. I had asked for a glass of water and was very pleased that it came in a long tall glass with ice and a slice of lemon. It’s those little touches that make all the difference.

Miscellaneous activities:

Buffet breakfast time. Sustenance before another day of tourist activities: we usually start with some Granola, real fruit of the forest berries and yoghurt. We are working through the available varieties: blueberry on Tuesday, raspberry yesterday, and strawberry today.  The laptop has accompanied us today so we can cruise slowly through a few courses, allowing us to have breakfast through to morning tea before we embark on our next adventure, which will be the second day of The Big Bus Tour. Tuesday we started with a pre-breakfast walk in the cool air. Since we had gone to bed so early of course we woke up early too. Impressed with the standard of breakfast, we then set out to explore the surrounding areas for two hours. Returning to the hotel, I did some Body Balance exercise and Dutchy did some weights, in the form of lifting a couple of glasses of beer at the pub, reviews of which will be found later. We decided to source out the best form of internet access, settling on a little place called Salad Heaven, where we bought lunch and paid £5 for four hours of internet time, which we will use during our stay in London. Our time started while we were eating our salad and chicken breast wrap, but the gentleman at the counter credited some extra time on our tab. That was good PR, as now we’ll be happy to return there and buy more food. Later I realised that wi-fi was free for customers, so next time we can just use what we paid for and have a cuppa in our room first! Due to the riots in England, our planned dinner at the pub was delayed until Wednesday night as police had suggested places close for dinners that night. So we ended up dining at the hotel restaurant, where I had soup (again), this time tomato and basil, while Dutchy enjoyed the ubiquitous fish and chips, which were excellent.

The Big Bus Tour:

For £32 each, we bought tickets valid for 48 hours on The Big Bus Tour. We had planned to get on the bus first thing at 8, but preparing for the day out and eating our buffet breakfast meant we only got to Stop 29 on Buckingham Palace Road for the 9.40 am bus. However, we were first on, so we made our way to the front seats on the top of the double-decker bus, which were under cover, so we were protected from the weather, in this case, some mild sunshine and a little wind. Victoria was our guide, who regaled us with interesting information about the sights we passed during the circuitous route of 2 hours and 10 minutes. Then we stayed on the bus with the plan to return to Stop 10 for the walk we wanted to do at 1pm. Working out times, we thought it better to alight from the bus near The Ritz and head across Green Park to the meeting point near the National Gallery. By the time we got there I was desperate to find some toilets, and we would have been happy to buy a coffee in order to utilise some. However, at a place called Pret a Manger, they don’t even provide amenities, perhaps because it is by and large a takeaway venue. Finally, the problem was resolved when we located the public toilets at the National Gallery. We were lucky, because when I came out of the Ladies’ loo, a guide or guard let me out through one of those retractable tapes between posts, so I think maybe I shouldn’t have been able to waltz straight in without a purchased ticket? My bladder was extremely grateful.

The Harry Potter Walk:

Many people were keen to do this Harry Potter Walk, with our guide Lucy, who took us through various locations from the movies, giving us interesting background information along the way. Having just seen the final movie, and on our way to Harry Potter World in Orlando, this walk was extremely appropriate and quite enjoyable. Some of the locations, such as the Ministry of Magic, are real buildings that have been altered using computer graphics, such as the phone box outside the building. I loved hearing about publishers who rejected J.K.Rowlings’ manuscript. It’s always encouraging for aspiring writers. One of the other stops was Mr Simms Olde Sweet Shoppe, apparently the inspiration for Marmaduke’s in Hogsmeade.

City River Cruise to Greenwich:

Conveniently for us, the walk finished at Stop 22, perfect for boarding the City River Cruise, included in our ticket price, which we took all the way down to Greenwich. We considered this a bonus, as Greenwich may not have been on our list of things to do, or places to see, but now we can add it to the “Been there, done that” list. The market took my fancy, and I found a “bling” jewellery stall, where I purchased my first souvenirs from London: a bling bracelet in black and silver with a metal heart clasp, and some sterling silver semi-quaver earrings, both for under £20. As we had not had lunch yet, we stopped for afternoon tea at a little cafe, but the chocolate cake we shared was a little disappointing, and the froth on the cappuccino insignificant. However, the photos we took sitting there turned out really nicely. We made our way up the hill to the Old Royal Observatory, where we got a photo of us each standing half in the western hemisphere and half in the eastern hemisphere. One day I would like to stand at 0 degrees longitude and latitude. Would that be in the ocean or maybe in Africa? Maybe I should google it? Then we caught the last boat back at 5.25pm; how the day can fly! Rather than going all the way back on the boat to Westminster, we thought we could crib some time by getting off at The Tower of London and taking the bus back to Victoria. However, the time we saved was then wasted when a certain husband of mine led the way the long way round to the pub.

St. Georges Tavern:

This time we were able to dine at St Georges Tavern. A quaint typically English facade, we walked into an animated atmosphere. Dutchy found a tall table with two chairs, and I enquired at the bar whether we could have dinner here tonight? Knowing how to win friends and influence people, my new best friend the young guy at the bar asked if I was over 21. Haha. We ordered food first, and then bought drinks. I really enjoyed the Chilean Merlot, and Dutchy’s next foray into English beer proved more successful than the first:

• Beck’s – cold, refreshing and tasty, particularly after a long touristy day, and from previous days:
• Wells Bombardier English Premium Bitter – room temperature strained dirty dishwater
• Samuel Smith’s Original Old Brewery Bitter – room temperature palatable bitter

This was the start of his beeralogue with his “learned” opinion. Dinner, or linner, as it was really lunch and dinner combined, proved delicious. Dutchy liked his fish and chips, but it wasn’t as good as the same meal at the hotel, but my salmon en croute was fantastic. Nestled on a puff pastry bed, the salmon was surrounded by some onion and red capsicum, accompanied by some baby potatoes and spinach and other leaves delicately seasoned with basil, served elegantly on a rectangular plate. Perhaps Dutchy can be the beer critic, while I will perform the function of critique culinaire (culinary critic if you couldn’t work that out!)  

Madame Tussaud’s:

Thursday, though we were up early, was a slow start because after the long buffet breakfast I stayed in the restaurant to type while Dutchy returned to the room to watch some news. Thank goodness the riots and unrest are nowhere near us. Consequently we were on our way when everyone else was. Then it was also drizzling, but I hadn’t brought a hat or umbrella; really that was silly going to England. Anyway, I was prompted to buy an umbrella with cute leopard print, which I didn’t need to use because as soon as I bought it the sun came out again. Summer meant big crowds, which we had expected, but congestion can be annoying. We bought our reduced price tickets for Madame Tussaud’s at the Big Bus for £25.50, a saving of £5.50 on the regular buy-at-the-door ticket price, which also enabled us to be in the fast track queue. Fast track, mmm. Our fast track wait was 45 minutes. However, that was at 11am, and the regular entry queue had a wait of four hours apparently. When we came out later it appeared to be a better time to head down there, about 2pm. Another way for easier access is to buy tix online directly from Madame Tussaud’s, which gives you Door 2 access, a proper priority door. Not sure of the price, but it would be nice being a VIP. Bags were looked through by the security guy, even my thermos. Dutchy said it did look as though it could contain a rocket launcher, but when he opened it to check some tea spilt over him. Serves him right! That’s mean; he was only doing his job thoroughly. Now girls and boys, we made a big mistake. Little Miss Vanity here and Mr Fussy did not think ahead. When you go to a place like Mme Tussaud’s, of course you will want to take photos with the wax and fibreglass celebrities, so isn’t it a good idea to dress appropriately and have sublime hair and makeup? Oops!  I had thrown on my old red polo shirt, the one I’m planning to throw out/ replace during this trip, and people kept asking me about the queues etc, because the uniforms of the Waxworks’ staff were red polo shirts, emblazoned with the logo. Generally people only see the colour, so I referred the next guy to my “learned colleague”. I could have told him anything! Meanwhile, cast your mind to the restaurant where I am typing this. Someone didn’t know how to use the flatbed conveyer belt toaster and now there is this burnt toast smell emanating from around the corner. I should have done the whole proper makeup routine as well. All I had was some tinted moisturiser and lippy. Fortunately my eyelash extensions saved the day from looking like a total twirp. Dutchy just put that word “twirp” in my mouth. He wasn’t happy with his hair, having washed it and with the extra length it is getting a life of its own. Welcome to my world. He even was talking about more product in his hair. Scary! Most of the celebs are in evening wear so the difference is even more remarkable. It’s amazing how tall most of them are, but Dutchy does point out that they are on a stand. That makes him feel taller anyway, but I couldn’t see Tom Cruise, though apparently he actually was there. He must be short! I moved out of the way of someone taking a photo but then realised she was a model herself, then I thought she was one of those moving statue people/mime artists, as I was sure she moved, but it turned out someone else had just bumped her. I felt decidedly underdressed in my photo with the Princess who shares my birthday, 1^st July. Princess Di was really tall, so I look even shorter than usual. Many of the celebs are so lifelike that you feel you could talk to them. Others, however, don’t quite come up to standard. I was disappointed in the young Elvis, and though Robbie Williams looked quite good, in the photos he didn’t look like himself, so I deleted those ones. Patrick Stewart was amazing, as were many others. My favourite photo is one of me with Audrey Hepburn, sitting down for afternoon tea. Ignore the red polo shirt please. It’s not quite as bad on second viewing. In the first A-list room, if you can overcome the overwhelming crowd, are all the models as if they are at a movie premiere.  Value for money is up to the individual. I think it’s a venue that is definitely worth seeing once, as with many tourist attractions.

Linner at Tiger Tiger:

Once again, after a big breakfast and a busy day, we ended up having linner. After Mme T’s we made our way on the Big Bus to Leicester Square to suss out theatre tickets. By this time it was almost 3pm, and I spied a restaurant called Tiger Tiger, advertising half-price meals during lunch Monday – Friday. We figured that perhaps this was a place that was busier during the evenings. For under £10 we each had a main, accompanied by a glass of water. I chose the Thai Green Chicken Curry, served with some crackers (like prawn crackers only white) and rice and naan bread in a large square bowl, that left a lovely tingly taste on my lips. Dutchy liked his burger, which was a generous serve, with a small side of chips, plated up on a board. This board business is the current fad for serving up dinners, and is rather attractive.

Theatre Tix:

Be careful if you’re buying tix; know your prices, as we were quoted £30 – £35 for tickets that originally were not much more than that. Jersey Boys was our choice, because it was a show that finished in Melbourne before I had got around to seeing it. Found some for the Grand Circle for under £30, so snaffled them up. Our plan was to return to the hotel to freshen up and get ready to go out, and also so that Dutchy didn’t have to lug around the heavy backpack, which contained not only the large digital camera, but the passports and documents, as there is no safe in the room (something to consider when booking hotels), and finally a bottle of Jim Beam to take to France. Stupidly, we had forgotten to get some duty-free on our outward bound journey.

Whiling Away Some Time:

I looked at the time and suggested that by the time we returned to our hotel we’d have to turn right round and come back again. How about we hang around here for a few relaxing hours instead? We found ourselves at Starbucks (my first-ever visit there) and located some comfy chairs. Members of the staff were very helpful, as Dutchy had his iTouch with available wi-fi. He had a grande latte and I had a hot chocolate and lashed out with cream on the top. Apparently to access the wi-fi one must have registered with Starbucks, by putting £5 on the card. However, they had no cards left so Gatana (or similar) helped him log on under her password, and use her own charger to charge it up. We whiled away an hour there, deleting unnecessary emails and looking at facebook. It really took the pressure off by deciding to stay in the area. We felt quite rested by the time we made our way to the pub opposite the theatre, where we found a couple of barstools at The Three Greyhounds and partook of some beer and Italian sparkling wine called Prosecco. Dutchy’s beeralogue continued with:

• Black Beauty Dark Porter – cool very thin version of Guinness. Not necessary to try that one again.

While he was drinking that glass, two businessmen walked into the pub and stood at the central table around a pillar, with two tall glasses of beer. Dutchy was interested to know what type of beer they contained, as it looked nice and cold, so I went over and asked.

• Stella Black (Stella Artois) – cold, refreshing and tasty. This is apparently one of the most popular lagers in London.

Gareth and Kevin work together in insurance underwriting and broking, and were very pleasant drinking companions. I’ve always believed in a particular saying, and there was the very saying chalked up above the bar: “There are no strangers here only friends you haven’t met yet” – William Butler Yeats 1865 – 1939.

Jersey Boys at the Prince Edward Theatre:

Having spent a pleasant couple of hours in the pub, we only had to walk diagonally across the road to the Prince Edward Theatre to thoroughly enjoy the performance of Jersey Boys. I used to buy and collect programs from shows I had seen, but have realised it’s just more hoarding. We did purchase the one from Mme Tussaud’s but felt it unnecessary to buy the Jersey Boys one, particularly because we knew none of the names of the stars, being London-based. We were going to take the Underground back to Victoria, but decided for the cost of tickets for only 2-3 stations, it was such a lovely balmy night we would walk, which took us 45 minutes. Each day we take turns in choosing the slightly long way round to the hotel, and by the end of the week we will know exactly where we should have gone. Maps can be quite useful but it’s more of an adventure to guess where to go.

Hair Wash in Hard Water:

Arriving back here at pumpkin hour, I washed my hair before bed. London’s water is not very nice on the hair. I think that means it’s hard water. It leaves a stain on the cup when you have black tea, similar to Adelaide. We really are spoilt with our Melbourne water, despite its slightly chlorinated taste these days.

Time for a Quiet Day:

Friday ended up being a quiet day after the busy preceding days, where we relaxed over a lingering breakfast. I straightened my hair and then we went on the internet at Salad Heaven where we uploaded photos onto facebook and caught up with emails. Dutchy went for a long walk while I did Body Balance in the room, which is just big enough. Occasionally my arm or leg would have to dodge around the chair leg or the leg of the desk, but I managed. We did a little shopping at Sainsbury’s, where we bought some lovely Red Leicester cheese and Sainsbury homebrand Harvest Grain crackers, which we enjoyed for afternoon tea. Somehow, with the huge breakfast, we haven’t needed a specific lunch. Rather than going out for a big night, some policemen we met advised to keep a low profile as if something was going to go down it may well be Friday or Saturday night. So we dined at the hotel, where Dutchy enjoyed his steak and I loved the scampi and chips. I asked for some salad instead of the peas or mushy peas on offer. Dessert was lovely, but we forgot to take a photo. Maybe we should have it again? Just for the photo; yeah, sure. Delicious Belgian waffles with chocolate sauce and ice-cream satisfied me, but Dutchy thought his cheesecake won hands down. As in many marital situations, we agree to disagree. Ended up with a TV night in the room where we watched a movie “What Lies Beneath” with Michelle Pfeiffer and Harrison Ford. When travelling I think it is always important to have some “down time” to recharge one’s batteries, which we successfully achieved.

Hello world!

Welcome to the travels of Princess and Quiquinou. Hope you enjoy reading my blog, as I have the pleasure of creating it. I welcome your comments. Regards, Sandi