So my parents invaded Paris for a couple of days and I think I managed to show them the majority of Paris in 24 hours. They left smiling but with aching feet and lots of photos so I think I did a pretty good job. Also, for a girl who didn't really like steak before moving here I'm doing a flippin fantastic job of eating it on a very regular basis; this may be due to the fact that pepper sauce is the closest thing I can get to gravy!
I then had a few days of ''recovering from being Paris' answer to Judith Chalmers'' (read; laying in bed doing very little) before Adam came and destroyed the peace. We had a funtime weekend eating and sleeping and a little bit of sightseeing in between. We chose the windiest night to go up Tour Montparnasse and had I not eaten a Mcdonalds and steak-frites the day before I would probably have blown away. There's a life motto here, never turn down a steak.
So yesterday myself and Olivia went in search of a Jewish war memorial because we love a good uplifting trip to a holocaust memorial on our days off. It rained a lot so naturally we had to take shelter...in Mcdonalds. I know what you're thinking and yes, I have eaten more Mcdonalds in the past week than Ronald Mcdonald himself. It was payday last week so naturally we bought more knitwear. Then we eventually found the war memorial down such a quaint** Parisian street; it was interesting and I'm glad we moped there in the rain to get to see it. Thinking I had been neglecting my healthy diet, good one I know, I took the bold decision to have banana as well as Nutella in my crèpe.
Then, yesterday evening we embarked upon our first 'Parisian night out experience' and boy was it an experience. So we headed on the metro to Lorna's for les befores and then all 3 of us made our way rather merry (okay I was merry) to the Arc de Triomphe and to the night club, which was not yet open. At this point I needed the toilet, it was getting to a debilitating state so we went to search for another bar where I could relieve myself and Lorna and Olivia could try and get to the same level of merry as myself, a difficult feat.
We made some French friends on the way to the club whom we saw several times throughout the evening and I'm certain they were massive fans of ours and the expression on their faces wasn't really of fear but of delight at having made such over enthusiastic international friends. Anyway having accidentally used the male toilets in the bar and having to leave promptly we returned to the club as it was opening.
First stop was the bar, 9 euros later I had 2 vodka and cokes as the barman told us it was happy drinks. I certainly wasn't happy when my vodka turned out to be rum.
First stop was the bar, 9 euros later I had 2 vodka and cokes as the barman told us it was happy drinks. I certainly wasn't happy when my vodka turned out to be rum.
The rest of the night is a happy dancing occasionally falling blur, including our fantastic taxi ride home where I am convinced we spoke the greatest and most comprehensible French to our taxi driver!
And that was the past week in a nutshell, a monument and vodka*** filled nutshell.
*original alcohol induced Olivia Mitchell quote
**yeah that happened. In a broad Yorkshire accent the word quaint is anything but quaint
***or rum
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| Favourite translation of the day. |
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| International love. |
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| Standard. |
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| Mother and Father's visit |
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