21 October 2012

5.58am
I'm up.

8.39am
I'm not sure where we are exactly. It's a cafe and there's coffee. That's all I care about right now.




I think we're up in the mountains between the Bodrum Peninsula and Dalyan. It's nippy outside up here!

11.23am
Mud baths. Now that was an interesting experience.

There are two pools here, one of which is a thermal bath. It's full of sulphur and, needless to say, reeks of raw eggs. It's like a flashback to high school chemistry.

The other pool has the mud bath itself. It's not very big and walking in it is like walking in a Texas river: very slimy between the toes and not very easy to walk in.

David was a stick in the mud, pardon the pun. He didn't partake of the mud bath. He just stood at the side taking pictures and complaining I didn't have enough mud on me.




I've come away with a bit of a souvenir as well. Marble pavement, bare feet and mud. And I'm a klutz.




At least the bleeding has stopped.

8.19pm
We're back at the hotel after a fantastic day. I think everything I want to say is going to require more effort than I can manage typing on my iPhone so will give it a bash tomorrow on the laptop while we're travelling back to the UK.

20 October 2012

12.45pm
The chavs have arrived.

It's lunchtime and we're sitting in a nice cafe overlooking the beach with the Chav Family at the next table. They're playing loud video games on a hand-held console and singing "Tarzan Boy".

Not a rocket scientist between them.

We've been quite fortunate in seeing relatively few chavs but they're always bound to turn up.

It's a migraine day so I'm going to find a lounger in the shade and vegetate. It's easing off, thanks to my foresight in packing the extremely large bottle of ibuprofen my mother gave me when I was in Texas in June.




1.03pm
The one o'clock call to prayer is wafting across the bay from the local mosque. It is one of the things that make me realise I'm in Turkey rather than Spain or Portugal. I like hearing it.

Although we live close to a mosque in Birmingham, we never hear the call to prayer. I think it must be drowned out by the sounds of the city, so hearing it here makes it seem more exotic.

This is our last full day of laziness because we're on the day trip to Dalyan today. Back on the lounger in the shade on the beach. David is in the sun soaking up some colour.




It's funny, we usually avoid beaches in favour of sitting by the pool, but we both seem to prefer this. It's quieter than the pool. No Cheryl Cole or Psy being blasted continually from loud speakers. Very few children running about in comparison. Relaxing adults rather than professionally sun-tanners. Fewer empty loungers with just towels as reserve signs but with no people attached to them.

And the water is absolutely gorgeous. It's so clear you can see little fish nipping up to the shoreline.




2.40pm
More chavs have arrived. There must have been a whole bus load arrive this morning.




I'm at the Pool Bar again with a coffee (caffeine for my migraine) and there's a group of them, tattoed, foul mouthed and drinking heavily. The kind of people who give Brits abroad a bad name.

The German families are giving them a wide berth, stopping just short of covering their children's ears as they pass. I don't blame them. Once my coffee is gone I'm vacating the premises too!




Soon there will be no one left but chavs. I do have something good to say about one of them: he prefers rugby (a "man's sport") to football (for "fairies"). Loud and foul mouthed but with good taste in sport.

8.17pm
This is why I'm going to need to start a diet on Tuesday:




Actually I haven't eaten a lot of the desserts but I've eaten enough to feel it!

So far the chavs haven't invaded the lobby bar so we're safe for the moment. By the time they arrive we should be tucked up in bed because our day trip to Dalyan has a pick up at 6.20 tomorrow morning!

19 October 2012

3.23pm
First blogging of the day because we have been very lazy and didn't wake up until nearly lunchtime.




Unfortunately what woke us was the family in the room next to ours having a domestic. It always seems to happen to us. Whenever we go on holiday, we witness domestics. The funniest was in Cyprus in May when the newlyweds from Chesterfield in the room next door were arguing because she got shit on the bed sheets.

David and I are actually quite boring publicly.

He has tried to convince me that I should go parasailing. I have put it on my bucket list but I think it would be more fun if I did it when Ricky and Jack could be there to make fun of me, so I will wait until we have our family holiday at Christmas or next summer.



3.44pm
Oh good grief. Almost worse than the dead mouse in the bathtub: they're playing Cheryl Cole over the pool PA system. Ugh.

4.23pm
David is distraught. He has seen someone aboard "his" boat. Someone who isn't David.




Meanwhile, I am more interested in mojitos.




It's just that kind of day.

David has asked me where we're going on Sunday. I explained it's called Dalyan, and in addition to the white beaches and mud baths there is a nature reserve where we might see sea turtles.

His face was a picture. Every now and then it will occur to him that he has already been somewhere. We were walking through a beautiful square in Portugal once when the same expression appeared on his face. He was certain he had been there before and said, if he was correct, he could take us straight to a road that had nothing but bars along it.

He did, and we had fantastic cocktails that night.

I think sometimes he feels these revelations will upset me but they don't. They just make me laugh. But I doubt he can take me to a bar where they serve amazing cocktails on the beach where the sea turtles lay their eggs.

We have had a discussion about standards, too. David is amused that I have been drinking cocktails in the afternoon.

To be honest, I don't drink very much. The main reasons are that I don't like not being in control and I don't like hangovers.

But there tends to be one day per holiday when I have a few drinks and let my hair down, in a civilised fashion, of course. I'm no chav on a bender because the booze is free.

David's rule is that there is no drinking until the sun goes over the yard arm, defined as 11am. I think I mentioned that in my blog post on Monday.

I once had a glass of champagne at 10.30am in Mallorca, which has put me in the "lush" category ever since.

5.00pm
Switching from mojitos to amaretto. There's only so much fresh mint one can take.




Random picture of the Turkish pigeon that just dropped by for a visit.

8.09pm
Overheard at dinner tonight, woman to man: "No, Mr Bananaman. I do not want a banana tonight."

18 October 2012

11.44am
Preparing for a walk down to the beach. Actually, I'm ready to go. David has decided he's going to get out of bed now and start getting ready.

I'm getting cranky, which is probably because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. David couldn't sleep and then he was up being sick. I hope he's better now. Two cranky people in one hotel room is never a good thing.

1.33pm
Better now. We had a walk down to the beach and found a fantastic place to lounge in the shade.




The private beach is great and I've already dipped my toes in the sea, although David says it doesn't count because there's no photographic evidence. Hey, that's fine with me. The fewer pictures the better!

We're having a break in the snack tent, where they serve some traditional Turkish food. I ordered a cheese gozleme, not knowing what on earth it was but figuring the it couldn't be too bad if it has cheese in it.

I got a full production, with a lady rolling out dough on a table and cooking my Turkish pancake on a flat grill. I almost felt guilty because I must have been the first person to order one. She had to set everything up for my one pancake!




She even had a tip box and there were chairs arranged around the platform where she cooked. More guilt - being all-inclusive and planning to sit on the beach, I left my money in the safe! I will have to go back to leave a tip before we go home.

Basically a gozleme is a crepe. Very nice.




I have been snapping away with the camera today but my batteries ran out. Thank goodness for my array of tech, including the iPhone 4S and its half decent camera!




6.40pm
Lounge pianists seem to have the most bizarre repertoires when I listen to them. Tonight's performer has included Hard-Fi's "Better Do Better". The first time David and I went on holiday together, the pianist decided to sing in the style of Fozzie Bear. Nothing is ever normal where we're concerned.




The hotel asked us to fill in a survey today, even though we're only about halfway through our stay. I did mention the dead mouse. It's not something you can let slide when questions about cleanliness appear.

One of the questions asked why we chose this hotel. There wasn't an option for "Well, we didn't really. We chose a hotel further along the coast, but they decided to shut early for the season so Thomas Cook sent us here instead".

It is quite nice really. We've had more dramas with David's man flu than anything else. That delayed the chill-out process, but we're getting there. I was so relaxed this afternoon I slept for two hours on the beach!

8.05pm
I will seriously need to look into an exercise programme when I get back to England! One problem with all inclusive is that, because it's there, you eat it. I try a little bit of a lot of different things but that still equates to eating until I'm stuffed.

I might just sit where I am until someone kindly offers to roll me to our room.

17 October 2012

9.05am
With David being ill, it's almost like I'm getting too much sleep so I bounced out of bed this morning ready to go find my breakfast. I forgot he can't leave the room until his "internal clock" says he can, so not even a coffee for me yet.

I even dreamed about Starbucks last night. That's just sad, but it left me craving coffee.

Hot stone massages are booked for 10am!

9.41am
Breakfast alone again. *sigh* I didn't want to eat immediately before being massaged.

There are a lot of sparrows zipping about in the dining room this morning, chasing each other and chirping away like naughty children. I'm keeping an eye out to make sure they aren't naughty by dropping something in my coffee!

Ahhhh here comes my beloved, at last! He obviously needs caffeine because when I said hello, his response was, "Where do you get the coffee?"

11.56am
Ok, awake now.

The hot stone massage was incredible! The therapist was the same Oriental girl who gave me the peel and foam massage in the Turkish bath yesterday. She is so tiny and the massage table was so high she had to climb up on it and sit on me to massage my back, which almost made me giggle! She's such a sweetie though.

I have only ever had a neck, back and shoulders hot stone massage in the past. This was a full body massage and I can see someone very uptight being freaked out by the experience. I've had four kids. Modesty went out the window years ago and there was absolutely nothing wrong with the fantastic massage I had today. But I am immature enough to have wanted to giggle.

This is the first chance I've had to go online since last night so I've been able to catch up on the news. "Binders full of women". Classic!

Also in the news, Starbucks (my guilty pleasure) is in the dog house for not paying tax in the UK. I pay tax on what I earn and so should they. I will have to scout out an alternative coffee house in Birmingham when I get back. Gutted though. I still have £4 on my pre-paid card.

3.20pm
An hour and a half in the sun by the pool, and I feel like a roasted chicken. After the first 25 minutes David disappeared to have his hair cut and I continued sunbathing (with my high factor sunscreen) but I gave up a few minutes ago, grabbed David's gadgets left by his lounger and headed to the bar to rehydrate.



I tried to get a picture of Spider-Man climbing a tree but it was too late. I'm not sure if I wanted the picture to prove he was really there rather than a heat-induced hallucination. I wasn't so bothered about the blue rabbit by the pool.

8.22pm
Rested and rehydrated!

When I went back to my lounger, after gulping two big glasses of cherry juice, David was there wandering where I was. His haircut looks very nice, and apparently he bought a pot of mud. I think it's the same seaweed and clay facial masque I had used on me yesterday, only now we own a whole pot of it.

I wonder if I can get Ricky and Jack to use it. I think they'd like the idea of covering their faces in mud. It's supposed to be good for clearing teenage complexions.

Nothing of note to write about today, really. Even people watching has been a bit uneventful. But the food has been excellent. I just finished eating my baklava!




The main restaurant is buffet style and, being all inclusive, is obviously all-you-can-eat. My goodness, people talk about American sized portions but I'm willing to bet I'm the only American here, and the amount of food people pile on their plates is incredible! By comparison, I'm a lightweight, both in the amount of food I take and the size of my person.

There are a lot of Germans and Russians staying here, which is cool. For standards, if you can't stay in a hotel full of Americans, stay where there are a lot of Germans. They want quality and aren't afraid to ask for it.

The Russians are just interesting to watch. I think they beat the reputation Germans have of claiming loungers with their towels and disappearing hands down. I think it's just competition between Germans and Russians for territory around the pool personally. Nothing political, just holiday territory.

The British come in two types: the polite, don't want to complain people, like David and me (the dead mouse was obviously an exception), and the loud and pushy chavs.

The chavs don't tend to go all-inclusive resorts unless it's with their families, so that isn't too bad. We have stayed in some hotels with lots of chavs on boys' weekends, hen parties, etc. Very frightening!

16 October 2012

10.33am
Hot stone massage postponed until tomorrow. David's man flu has turned him into the walking dead. I never knew that zombies snored.

I breakfasted alone but that's okay. Me-time is never a bad thing, unless me-time exceeds social-time, in which case I need human interaction and bounce off the walls. This morning it was fine. I read my book over a bowl of rolled oats with milk and honey.

Still no wi-fi connection except via my Kindle. I have not used a single meg of data on my iPhone and I am determined to resist! I will probably text Ricky and Jack later but that's different. That's being Mummy, not a Techie Queen.

Unbelievably hot at 9.00 when I went to breakfast. I'm not big on sunbathing (you know, cancer risk, premature ageing and all that) so I'm having a chill out in the air conditioned room while David sleeps.

Speaking of sunbathing, guess who left home without his swim shorts ...

Still enjoying my sea view. The view from the terrace bar is fantastic with the Bay of Gumbet to the left and the Aegean Sea to the right. Tonight I'm going to take a shot at panoramic photos.
I can only imagine this hotel at the peak of the travel season. We usually have an October break, last year being the exception when we had our longer holiday in Cyprus in September. Most of the kids are in school this time of year, the 18 to 30s have run out of money and the middle aged have run out of holiday time off work.

There are lots of golden oldies about but they're okay. They keep to themselves, don't tend to become obnoxiously drunk and don't run screaming around the pool. The worst you get is one of them moving someone else's towel off a sun lounger. That can be major drama poolside.







13.02pm

I have wi-fi at last! Forget what I said earlier. It's not in my nature to be a Luddite.

And David has emerged from the fog of his zombieness to join me in the Seyir Bar for a coffee. He looks a bit grey but upright is an improvement.

So far it's not much of a travel blog, I know. Dead mice, man flu and food. But it's real life and we still have several days to go.

Anyway, the whole dead mouse in the bathtub thing is fading away. Other than a noisy cricket in our room (we chased it onto the balcony after David sprayed it with my deodorant and then dry shampoo), there have been no dramas with this room so far. Last night the hotel brought red wine and chocolates to our room and today we've had souvenir soap, a key ring and a baseball cap.

2.08pm

I met the Thomas Cook rep and apologised for missing the Standard Welcome Meeting this morning. She was concerned when I explained about David's illness. He told her it was a disease. I translated "disease" into "man flu". She isn't worried anymore.

My accent gave me away again. The Turkish people here think I'm English, which is probably a good thing, but the rep, who is English, knew I'm not right away. It lead to the inevitable conversation about Dallas, JR and Bobby. Not the new series, fortunately. She was more a fan of the original.

I know after our experience with the day trip in Tunisia to Tunis and Sidi Bou Said I would never go on another day trip again, but one Thomas Cook has listed is to Dalyan, which was recommended to me by one of my clients who is Turkish. Tough decision to make. I don't think David is going to be interested as it involves rolling around in mud.

Oh hell, I've booked it anyway. Sunday morning departure is at 6.20am but breakfast and lunch are included. If it's Tunisia all over again, I will never hear the end of it, but it wasn't very expensive and is supposed to be incredible.

5.43pm

I have crossed another thing off my Bucket List: I have had a Turkish bath in Turkey.

David had a roast in the sauna to sweat out his cold and I had a look at the hamam. You can either sit there and soak up the steam or you can pay for a scrub and massage.

Now I know why it's called a Turkish bath! I don't think I've ever been so clean in my life because I think the only things the girl didn't scrub were my eyeballs and my bits!

I think I just experienced part of a male fantasy in a purely non-erotic manner, having been covered in foam and lathered by a young Oriental girl! For me, it was better when I first got there when there were only two nice looking men wearing towels rinsing the room from the previous round of foaming. That's more like my fantasy realm!

Anyway ...

I finished off with a clay and seaweed facial. Yep. After being scrubbed squeaky clean, I let the girl cover my face in mud. But my pores are absolutely fabulous now!

8.32pm

Oh no, the first work related query has come through filling me with dread because I can't remember what I did with some papers! Deep breaths, it's nothing major like losing someone's original will ...

Just as I was sitting down with my first cocktail of the holiday.




Apart from reading, I don't plan to do anything except read and drink my Mojito before bedtime.

15 October 2012

11.46am in the UK, 1.46pm in Turkey, and we're somewhere in between

Airports are the world's greatest places for people watching. It is where the great and the good all go when they need to go somewhere else. They tie together all walks of life, all nationalities, all income levels.

Airports are also some of the strictest places in the world. That's why they make such good places for people watching. The rules are made for everyone but a few special people.

Special in their own heads anyway.

For example, this morning going through airport security, the woman ahead of David and I in the queue was asked if she had any liquids in her carry on bags. The exchange went like this:

Woman: No. Oh wait. Does ibuprofen gel count?

Security: Yes. Please take it out of your bag. [Woman opens bag.]. What is this?

Woman: A drink. Does that count? I already drank most of it.

Security: I will have to dispose of it.

Woman: (in a huff). If you must.

Security: Anything else?

Woman: No.

[Bag goes through x-ray.]

Security: Excuse me, I need to look in your bag. There appears to be liquid in it.

Woman: (in a bigger huff). Fine.

Security: What is this?

Woman: A carton of Ribena.

Security: I will have to dispose of it. Now your bag needs to go back through the scanner. [Puts bag through scanner.]. I'm sorry, there seems to be something else ...

I will end it there. I didn't know whether to be annoyed she was holding everyone up or piss myself laughing. I decided to keep a straight face. She had more tattoos than I do. Bigger ones, too.

Unfortunately she is also on our flight. Oh please don't let her be in our hotel as well!

Now we're on our Thomas Cook flight somewhere over Europe. I can't see enough land to be able to tell which part, although we cleared Belgium, Luxembourg and Germany a while back.




We have survived the airline food and resisted the urge to pay extra for special headsets to let us hear the in-flight film (advertised as "Spider-Man" but actually "Rock of Ages"). And, as the sun is over the yard-arm, which is David's measurement by which he judges whether one has class or not, so a celebratory drink in celebration of our latest holiday is in order.




3.52pm in Bodrum, Turkey

Well that was one of the easiest passport control experiences I've had, apart from returning to the UK from Dublin! Show your passport, pay $20 for a visa, show your passport again, get your baggage. I was expecting something like the turmoil of the airport in Tunisia because of the things I had read online.

The approach to this airport is the most scenic I've ever seen. Round and round the mountains we went. For a while I thought the airport must be on a mountain! I couldn't take pictures, as much as I really wanted to, because the "no electronics are to be switched on because you'll crash the plane" rule was in force.

Now it's the usual package holiday experience of wait for everyone to get on the coach for dropping off at the various hotels on route. At least the coach is air conditioned! It's very hot here - thank goodness!




5.27pm World of Wonders Hotel Room 1314, Bodrum, Turkey

Just checked in and made it to our room. Dead mouse in bathtub. I want to cry.

5.45pm World of Wonders Hotel Room 1345, Bodrum, Turkey

Room change. Same size but with a sea view instead of a view of kids playing football. And no dead mouse in the bathtub.




6.42pm

Starting to relax a bit now. This helps:


The order of the evening is a drink on the terrace, some food and sleep!

7.37pm

I am stuffed full of cheese, tzatziki, hummous, baklava, smoked mackerel and anchovies.

Yes, I said anchovies. Delish.

I saw a very "cute couple" in the restaurant, obviously on their first holiday together. So sweet. Until they finished eating and he got up to leave.

"Darling," she said. "You're supposed to pull my chair out for me so I can stand up."

I think he wanted to swear at her and he didn't pull her chair out.

Day Two: Chilling Out Before PG's Hen Night

3.23pm. Sunning by the pool after a lie-in until 10.30!


I never really tan, partly due to my very pale (English rose/yellow rose of Texas hybrid?) complexion and partly due to my use of factor one million sunscreen but I do feel recharged after topping up my vitamin D levels and thawing out from the British winter!

This morning we had a nice walk down to the harbour for a bit of exercise. Neither one of us is keen on sunbathing on a beach. We like beaches and the sea, but the sand just gets everywhere. Better to walk on beaches and sunbathe beside pools. It's much tidier.


Pafos harbour

The poolside relaxation this afternoon is also preparation for tonight's hen night and stag do. I happen to know that the venue for tonight's hen festivities serve fabulous margaritas and daiquiris, and that is exactly what I need!

Oh yeah, I walked near Starbucks this morning but didn't go in. Instead we had a Cypriot coffee in a cafe. It's a very interesting experience and much better than the firewater we were given complimentary at the restaurant where we had dinner last night. I thought my whole head was burning!!!


Cypriot coffee

4.20pm. I love people watching. For example, most of the people on the minibus from the airport to the hotel were old people from Yorkshire.

And the people in the room next door to ours are chavs who sound like they're probably from Lancashire. One lad was booming this morning "I spent €15 on water last night!!!"

It looks like he and his fiancée are here in Cyprus to get married, and they're having a bit of a pre-wedding piss up by the pool. The groom even had a plunge of sorts by sticking his feet in the tank for a fish pedicure.

The wedding guests are even funnier. One man has nearly started a domestic by referring to his next wife while speaking to his current wife.

Four hours until the Hen Night begins!!!

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Location:Agiou Filonos,Paphos,Cyprus

Day One: Airborne!!!

11.30am The only time I don't mind getting up at stupid o'clock in the morning is when we're going on holiday. Still, 4.45am felt like it came around much too soon, and I'm never a morning person.

An uneventful drive to East Midlands Airport, which will probably be dumped from my memory banks in due course. A relatively fast-moving queue to drop off our checked-in bags and have my non-EU passport checked. (I highly recommend the practice of online check-in before going to the airport. The queue for the people who hadn't was enormous!)

Apparently, however, I am a bad person because I didn't take my Kindle out of my bag before it went through the scanner. David did, but he asked if he should, by which point I was on the other side of the metal detector. Well, I was asked if I had a laptop and I don't!

Naughty Melinda.

Normally we fly from Birmingham Airport and have breakfast in the Weatherspoons but East Midlands is much smaller and without such luxuries. I did spot a sign for Caffe Ritazza's new coffee: a caffe tiramisu! Being a self-proclaimed coffee connoisseur, that was my mind made up. I nabbed a table and made David queue to get me one, much to his disgust.

I'm sorry to report that it was a real disappointment, and not because it lacked booze. David and I have standards. No alcohol before the sun goes over the yardarm (aka 11.00am).

Again, nothing eventful in the departure lounge and a smooth boarding. I napped, I read, I listened to music and now I blog.


Austria from the air: the hills are alive with the sound of music ...


In the meantime, Pafos awaits with bated breath. Okay, maybe not, but I understand that a swarm of Scots are also descending on poor Pafos today in addition to this American and her English sidekick.

6.43pm We've made it to Paphos and to our hotel. Cheap and cheerful but there's a pool, a bar and wifi in the lobby so our major needs are met.

The hotel does seem to have the World's Smallest Spa but you can have a massage or a fish pedicure! And for the kiddies there's a big bunny or a big rooster to play on.


I do love places like this because they keep me amused, but I need to cheer David up, as he seems to be in a grumpy mood. I'm hoping the first beer will start to do the trick!

We don't have much planned for tonight apart from food and catching up on sleep. Too little of both today!

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Location:Spyrou Kyprianou Ave,Paphos,Cyprus

We're Off on Our Travels Again

I have finished going through the mountain of papers on my desk in my office. I have washed my coffee cup of the remnants of coffee mate and coffee grounds. I have left the building.

It's time to set off on another journey to Cyprus.

David and I haven't been away for a "proper" holiday since we were in Cyprus last September. Although we made it to Rome and Paris for rugby weekends and to Edinburgh for Hogmanay, this will be our first week away from work and into the sun this year.

Despite the fact that this will be our third trip to Pafos to see our friends Pauline and Stevie, this will be a trip with a difference because Pauline and Stevie are getting married on Saturday.

So once we're off it will not just be sun and moussaka but sun, moussaka, a hen night, a stag do, a wedding, an F1 watching party and karting.

And I'm ready!


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Paris 2012 - Day 4

1.00pm - It's time to go home.

It is a beautiful day in Paris, warm and sunny. Just the kind of day I would love to stroll around leisurely taking photos.

David and I did have a nice lie-in until 9.30 and enjoyed one last romantic cuddle before meeting John.

The three of us sat on a bench in the middle of the Boulevard des Batignolles with the coffees and pastries we bought at a corner patisserie before legging it to the Gare du Nord.

No photos? Well, as nice as it was sitting on the bench in the sun it was a bench by a main road in Paris. The Metro and the Gare du Nord didn't inspire my inner photographer either!

I did, however, snap a picture of the strangely formed balloon animal the restraunteur in St Denis gave me as we were leaving for the Stade de France. I carried it all through the rugby match and all the way back to the hotel, just to annoy David!



4.00pm - Almost home. We're back in England on the train home to Birmingham from London. An uneventful "Channel crossing" (well, under the Channel anyway) with overpriced microwaved food and less than desirable coffee.

Travel tips: When going to Paris by Eurostar, take a picnic. We did going over on Friday and had what we wanted at reasonable prices. We should have done the same coming back.

If you need to get to London from Birmingham, and probably from anywhere else in the UK, by train explore your options. The faster Virgin Train was three times more expensive than the slower but no more uncomfortable London Midlands service.

If you visit the Eiffel Tower, go early and pre-book. You'll go straight to the front of the queue like a group of Welsh schoolchildren. It wasn't just the kids, a lot of other people pre-booked and avoided waiting in the first queue to buy tickets.

Don't be afraid to try a restaurant off the beaten path. The guidebooks are just that: guides. You never know when you'll end up in a pizzeria being served champagne and treated like royalty.

Make your own judgments about your trip. I know people who love Paris and people who hate Paris. Each tries to put their case forward but, at the end of the day, every experience is what you make of it. David once had sausages in Paris that were so horrific he will never eat sausage in France again. But yesterday John and I had the sausage served with the couscous and they were delicious.

Free wifi is hard to find in Paris, for those of you who are fellow techno-geeks. If you need to check email, Facebook, Twitter, etc you might check that your hotel provides it so you can at least get your fix while you're away. Saved me a fortune in data charges this trip because I just changed mobile providers and didn't set up my international roaming before I left England.

C'est la vie.



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Paris 2012 - Day 3

1.40pm - Back to David and John's itinerary, which is fine. I like a mixture of looking around on my own and with others.

Right now we're in a cafe/bar 1.1km from the Stade de France. It's not in the most exclusive area, more likely the part of the city where the most recent immigrants have settled. David thinks it's one of the most dangerous areas in the world.

He has obviously never been to South Oak Cliff.

It was more dangerous on the Metro getting here, where a strange little man wearing a Glasgow Rangers shirt and an England football beanie cap (a definite sign of someone up to no good) started to unzip my bag. He didn't get very far. I travel with a bag with an uncooperative zipper!

Whatever area we're in, we had a chance to look around it when John lost his bearings when trying to locate the pub we're in now. I never felt threatened, maybe because I'm wary when out and about anyway, even in Birmingham.

David, bless him, is very protective. He came back to the hotel last night before the rugby matches on telly were over because he was worried about me. He and John had seen a bloke have his iPhone 4s stolen (the same phone I have) and had someone try the old "distract them by pretending you dropped a gold ring" trip. A women tried that to me in the Place de la Concorde on my way back to the hotel, but I ignored her because her acting was highly suspicious!

This morning we started off with a trip up the hill to Sacre-Coeur. Not up all the stairs at the front though. We're all old and unfit.

We still had quite an uphill trek, enough to get the blood pumping and the endorphins going, by approaching from the back, just as the bells began to toll.

No trip inside this time to see whatever is in there. It's a remarkable building, but for a woman who was a historian specialising in the Middle Ages, it's just too modern for my interest, having been begun in 1875 and completed in 1915. I'm more interested in St Denis, which is 331m from where I'm sitting right now!


Instead of going around the cathedral, we found an Irish pub on the corner (middle of the photo with the green awning) and people watched while drinking cafe au lait and eating fresh croissants.

I had to laugh because there were two tellies on in the pub plus music. One was showing Catholic mass, the other the news. At the point in the mass where the priest elevated the host, P!nk came on the radio singing "I'm Not Dead".

My supervising partner Anne said her favourite part of Paris is Montmartre and we had a wander through the artists' market. I remember when I was taking French in high school and enamoured with all things French, I said one day I would buy a painting in Montmartre and I did.


Not from the market itself, where a small oil painting can cost 55€ but from a little shop down the hill where I think artists must take their surplus paintings that they paint on the market but don't sell. After all, you can't have hundreds laying around your stall. I paid 20€.


The England supporters were out in force already, and I won't be surprised if these lads end up on telly because we saw the BBC Sport van parked up around the corner from Sacre-Coeur.


Now more or less back to the present. I can't write in my blog as easily when I'm out with these two, but they're watching rugby on the telly and drinking beer so they're content.

Although David has told John that blogging is one of the world's great inventions for keeping women quiet. How rude.

7.30pm - What an afternoon!

We went next door to the pub where I was blogging before for a pizza, having seen a few other England supporters go in. It looked like a very rugby-friendly place.


I had stopped to take the picture and when I walked in there were cries of "Oh no! Not another England supporter!"

In this "dangerous area" in Paris, they took us into the back part of the restaurant, brought us free champagne and told us we were going to have the couscous. We never saw a menu.


I don't even know what the name of the restaurant is! But it was so much fun, the food was fantastic and they really looked after us.

Then ... Le Crunch!

I won't give a full match report here. Suffice it to say England beat France 24-22. The atmosphere in the Stade de France was incredible! I've never been to a rugby stadium that loud, not even the Millennium Stadium with the roof shut!

Typical French rugby supporters. More noise when England was kicking than at any other time despite the announcements to respect the kicker!

Now I'm being quiet and blogging again, but I sent David and John out for a beer to keep them quiet!

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Paris 2012 - Day Two

10.30 - The Eiffel Tower. Actually the very long queue for the Eiffel Tower. David and I were getting very close to the front of the queue when 100 Welsh school kids, plus parents, who had pre-booked arrived.

No coffee yet so I'm more Victor Meldrew than Pollyanna this morning.

From a distance, my first thought about the Eiffel Tower was "Is that it?" but, as we got closer, that changed to "Wow".



11.30 - The top of the Eiffel Tower. I almost chickened when we got to the second level, and I almost squeezed all the blood out of David's hand in the lift to the summit (all windows!!!!), but I'm here!


Another thing crossed off my bucket list.

Visitors seem to spend more time in queues than actually seeing anything, but that's the same for most famous tourist attractions so, if you accept that, it's no problem. It would be worse in the summer months, I would imagine. But we did chat to very nice Australian couple while waiting, and that helped pass the time.

I've had a cafe au lait and a pain au chocolat since we've been up here so I feel more Pollyanna now.

You can't help but marvel at the architecture of the Tower, built as a temporary structure in 1889. It feels old but not decrepit. The solidness to it makes a chicken like me feel secure but still has the look of something impressively antique.


Next stop, Notre Dame, I think!

3.45 pm - Sacre bleu! My feet don't half hurt!

I've been doing some sightseeing on my own, which is pretty cool. Sometimes taking things at your own pace and making sure you see everything you want to see is fantastic.

We did go to Notre Dame, only I went into the actual cathedral on my own. David and our friend John, who we do a lot of travelling with when it's a rugby break, sat in a cafe across the road.


I went into Notre Dame on my own (free entry and fast moving queues). It is a beautiful church but very dark compared to other grand churches like Westminster Abbey or even most of those in Rome I visited.

I did like that there was a little chapel to St George, complete with a statue of him slaying the dragon. I thought there might be English football supporters there lighting candles to him but many of them probably aren't religious.


When I met up with David and John, they were just about to pay their tab for two pints. 22€!!! I decided not to join them for a drink.

Now I'm sitting in the cafeteria of the Louvre, having had quite easily found the Mona Lisa but having had a bugger of a time finding the Venus de Milo!


It's amazing how many people are ignoring the rule that you can't use flash photography. Lots of people are more interested in taking pictures of themselves with famous art instead of actually enjoying the art itself.


Once I have rehydrated and the swelling in my feet has eased a bit, I'm going to wander around taking more pictures. I have four hours to get back to the hotel. David and John have gone to the pub to watch the two Six Nations matches being played today. As much as I love rugby, this is my chance to see Paris!

5.40 pm - Back in the hotel with a loaf of pain au main to munch on as I rest my aching feet and try to understand what their saying on the telly. It's a rugby programme so probably "England? We'll beat them with one hand each tied behind our backs!"

Leaving the Louvre, I was reminded just how commercial the world is. I found this inside:


Even better, you know the final scene in the DaVinci Code where Tom Hanks kneels on the inverted pyramid which is supposedly over the tomb of Mary Magdalen? It's a good thing he wasn't downstairs.


Apple could have made a fortune in advertising.

I had a leisurely stroll through Les Jardines des Tuileries, hopped on the Metro and then checked out a supermarket for Spam. Not for me. For my mother. Don't ask.


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