Au revoir, Paris.
Up and packed, ready to leave our
bigger bags in left luggage at the hotel, and then to check out. Again, took
the Metro to spend the morning at Notre Dame. Got there in good time and
managed to saunter [? another word of
french origin?] in with hardly a queue to be seen. Given that it was Sunday
there was a morning service taking place. Whilst this meant we were not able to
wander down the nave, it did mean we had the opportunity to listen to what is
apparently arguably one of the world's finest organs [please, no comments guys,
there are children present]. There was also a bit of a commemorative display to
honour Saint Therese, who it would seem was quite the other-worldly and
particularly pious individual, and who, apart from wrestling with a few of her
own personal demons over the years (? madness of one form or another I suspect
- isn't that the case with most saints and martyrs), devoted her life to the greater
glory of God and servitude to the people at the turn of the last century. It
was therefore something of a surprise to discover that she apparently invented
the machine-gun, shortly before the start of World War I!! They probably made
her a saint for fear of what she might do to them with her new invention if
they didn't. Also of interest was the contrast between the feel of Notre Dame
and that of Westminster Abbey. Whilst the former had more of an emphasis on
religion (! thanks to Patrick for that particular observation), with respect to
statues and paintings glorifying God, Jesus and saints in general, the abbey
seemed to have more of a secular feel (rather paradoxically it would seem;
although I imagine that the church would argue that the great figures of
history (even the warriors) received their greatness from up on high and were
divinely blessed in their quests, conquests and discoveries). From there it was
around the corner to join yet another queue to climb the 300-odd steps to the
top. Again, worth the climb, with wonderful views and continued superb weather
(forecast top yesterday was 23° and today was 31°); nevertheless, still some
smog in the distance, so the photos will seem a bit blurry I suspect, but a
small price to pay.
Then had our last meal (I am
loath to say supper, given our proximity at that point to a place of Christian
worship) which was but a stone's throw from the cathedral (mindful perhaps, of
earlier folk for whom a stone's throw in this vicinity was more likely to be an
unpleasant reality than a simple metaphor). After having had steak tartare last
night, one couldn't go past the french theme without having an omelette. And
whilst the whole thing was obviously very much geared towards the tourists, it
nevertheless seemed to be very well done, and we all had a thoroughly enjoyable
time sitting back at our table on the pavement and watching the good people of
probably every part of the world except for France go past.
After doing a spot of tourist
shopping it then became something of a mad dash to get back to our hotel in
time to get our bags and make it to the train station in time, until Julianne
realised that she hadn't been reading her watch quite correctly. For those of
you familiar with Julianne's Dali watch, this will come as no surprise, and is
not an indication of poor vision nor of hungoverness. Metro ride uneventful,
long boring wait in yet another train station for the Eurostar to load the
cattle and ship us back to England. Lovely green pastures and farmland as we
whizzed past, but it did have a sameness to it. Having said that, as Julianne
pointed out, it would be nice to undertake a leisurely car trip along the back
roads through the little towns in rural France.
Overall, pleased to have survived
Paris without being mugged - well, illegally anyway, and not counting the €1.
Arrived at King's Cross Saint
Pancras in good time (about 5 o'clock) and made our way to Russell Square tube
station to locate our hotel. Found the road it was on without too much trouble,
and, as the building numbers on the side of the road where we were standing were
odd, we thought it not unreasonable that the even numbered buildings (which
included our hotel) would be on the opposite side - oh no, nothing that simple.
Walked until the road we were on changed name......and kept walking, as we
noticed that it seemed to have changed name simply because it was the road
surrounding a square, and that beyond the square it almost became the
same name again - this should have been a clue. Adding the word 'Upper' to a
road does not mean it is the same road. What it does mean is that the buildings
are numbered sequentially up one side of the road, and then at the point where
the road changes name (even though it is continuing in a straight line), they
then continue sequentially back down the other side of that particular stretch
of road - it's gems of information like this that they don't tell you in the
travel guides! It also turns out that we should have remembered this bit of
useful information the next day, even though technically we haven't got to
tomorrow yet. But that will have to wait until tomorrow.
Booked in to an incredibly large
and (to my mind) rather impersonal hotel, but it is well situated and serves
our purpose well. As Patrick pointed out with some degree of incredulity, it has
15 lifts servicing the 7 floors. Then out for our first Indian meal in England
- de rigeur, when in Rome (or Londinium, as the case may be, for all you
Classics scholars out there). Buffet style, or, as the waitress referred to it,
"Buffett" - I kept looking for Warren, but no joy (for all you
Business scholars out there). Tomorrow we negotiate the roads of London. This
may be our last blog.
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