Day 22 From a distance.

We thought we knew of all the great sights of Paris, the Eiffel Tower, the Champs Elysees, the Arc de Triomphe, the Musee du Louvre with its glass pyramid, Sacre Coeur on Montmartre and of course Notre Dame. However when we were on the giant Ferris wheel the other day we noticed something else. Perched in the air we gazed up the grand boulevard of the Champs Elysees towards the Arc de Triomphe marveling at the straight lines with all their grandeur. Then we noticed that the boulevard seemed to continue beyond the Arc de Triomphe to what appeared to be a fairly modern CBD. Tall buildings that we had never noticed before, shimmered on the horizon. After some further research we realized that this must be La Defense, a name that is familiar to us because it is one of the stops on the Metro line that we frequent. Like many others we had wrongly thought that La Defense was an army base, but it is actually the home of a large number of steel and glass skyscrapers, which make up the main business district of Paris.

We decided to check out this unknown part of Paris and caught the Metro No 1 to the end of the line, until we eventually arrived at La Defense, and a station called La Grande Arche. We foolishly wondered whether we would be able to find this arch when we came out of the Metro. What greeted us was an amazing, modern, marvel of French design and architecture. La Grande Arche is two huge 35 storey narrow skyscrapers joined together at the top to form an arch similar in shape to the other, older and more famous arch in old Paris. It was breath taking!! It is actually a huge hollow cube, which has sides that measure 110 metres. The total structure weighs over 300,000 tons and is covered by acres of Carrara marble and glass. Proudly the literature boasts that the Grande Arche is large enough to allow Notre Dame to fit within the cavity but strong enough to stand the fiercest earthquake. A ride to the top gave us an opportunity to experience a huge exhibition area, café, a gallery of freaky 3D art and of course a gift shop. The French never miss an opportunity for a museum and at the top of this grand arch was a small museum tracing the history of computers. It was all a bit too familiar for a couple of 50 year olds. The Mac exhibit was for Richard a record of the last 20 years of his life. Finally we found the outside viewing area for another bird’s eye view of Paris, this time from a different angle. Sadly a persistent fog meant that our view back towards the Arc de Triomphe was a bit limited.

The rest of the La Defense is CBD Parisian style. No cars! A wide central thoroughfare, with gardens and a number of outdoor sculptures linked the business park together making it look more like a university campus than a CBD. Shiny glass and steel buildings circa 1960, 1980, and 1995 and soon to be 2010 almost completed this fascinating picture. We say ‘almost’ because the final wonderment was a huge shopping centre in the shape of a giant concrete aeroplane hanger. Inside was a Hilton Hotel. We noticed guests looking down from their balconies onto some very classy shops. One other detail bought a smile to our faces, on the outside of this building was a huge advertisement for Emerits Airlines showing a giant picture of the Sydney Opera House.

The French continue to do many things differently and somehow with a style like no one else!

Day 21 Dream on NSW government.

Paris has wonders at every turn but one of our chief delights, without which our adventures would be impossible, is a project undertaken in the late 19^th and early 20^th century, a project that required incredible engineering ingenuity… the Paris Metropolitain or as it is affectionately called The Metro. Although planning began in 1845 the first line (Line 1 as it is still known today) wasn’t operational until July 1900. Today’s system boasts 211kms of track, with 14 lines shuttling 3500 carriages at any one time on a regular schedule between 300 stations, of which 87, offer connections to other lines. It is said that over 4 million people travel The Metro every day and while trains are often crowded we have never experienced a train so full that we could not get on board. If you are quick you can normally always get a seat. It is said that every building in Paris is within 500 metres of a metro station. Therefore with patience, care and the necessary changes, you can get to and from everywhere in Paris on the metro. What’s more the French even add a touch of class with a variety of signs marking the entries of the metro stations with everyone’s favorite being the art deco signs of the early twentieth century.

What we really love is the regularity of the trains. On most of the lines that we travel, for most of the day and night until about 1am, the trains come at 3-4 minute intervals. We have discovered that they come slightly less regularly on Sundays when we have been trying to get to church on time! The number of times we walk down the steps and say to each other “our carriage awaits” as the train is there to meet us. The system is quite clean, very, very well signposted, easy to understand and if you are a city rat, just plain fun. People are usually about as friendly as on any train (ie not friendly at all) but we have shared a laugh, a look, or a sigh with many fellow travellers.

The Metro is very egalitarian. We have seen women in their stiletto boots, full fur coats and with handbags worth more than a small car. We have seen men and women dressed in their power business attire. But at other times we have seen the workers, the mums with babies, the teenagers going to school, the kids on excursions, the elderly, the homeless, the ipod generation and women and men out shopping with their pull along trolleys. Of course there are also the tourists holding their maps and guidebooks and speaking Italian, English, Russian, American, Spanish and even quite a few speaking Strine.

When public transport is cheap, efficient, reliable, quick, comfortable and cosmopolitan the motor car seems slightly irrelevant, expensive and rather boring!

Day 20 Sunset on the Seine

On a lovely sunny afternoon (about 8 degrees) and after attending the contemporary service at the wonderful American Protestant Church of Paris (1.30-2.30pm -an odd time by Sydney standards but it seems to work here) we decided it was a perfect afternoon for a stroll. The church is located on the Left Bank of the River Seine quite close to the Eiffel Tower. We walked across the beautiful Alexandre III Bridge. It is the bridge that has the lovely golden statues on each of the four corners and noticed huge crowds of Parisians queued outside exhibitions at the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais. We didn’t feel like joining the queues so we walked a little further and sat in a park and enjoyed a chocolate crepe bought from a near by crepe seller. Children played in the park and waited excitedly for the next performance of a Punch and Judy Show at an old puppet theatre near to where we were sitting. The sign said that there had been a puppet show there every Sunday for over 200 years.

We walked back to Place de la Concorde, past the Ferris wheel that we had ridden a couple of days ago, and wandered through the Jardin des Tuileries, which were wall to wall with Parisians enjoying the afternoon sunshine. You can tell who the locals are because they are almost always dressed in black. We headed down towards the river and noticed people walking along a cobbled path that meandered beside the river (you are probably familiar with this path if you have ever watched any movies set in Paris) so we thought we would join the parade and see where it led. By now it was about 3.30pm.

We walked and enjoyed a perfect late afternoon winter’s day in Paris. The locals were loving it and the few tourists lucky enough to be there felt like locals. We continued to walk with the river on our right and Notre Dame in our sights. The cobbled path ran out after a couple of kilometres and gave way to what appeared to be normal traffic lanes. The normally busy road along the river had been closed off to cars and had been taken over by pedestrians, the odd jogger and quite a few roller bladers. We continued walking past Hotel D’Ville with Notre Dame on the river island to our right. As we walked surrounded by centuries of history we appreciated a city that closes roads to cars to reward those who are willing to walk, dream, ponder and reflect at a slower pace.

After walking for quite some time we discovered that we were at Place de la Bastille and at this point Richard had a crazy idea. After looking at the map he suggested it might actually be possible to walk home from Bastille! An hour or so later after a fascinating meander through Bastille and the backstreets of outer Paris’s east side we did indeed make it all the way to Rue Monti Christo and our humble little flat. It was now about 6.30pm and the sun had set over an hour ago.

We had just about walked from one side of Paris to the other and had clocked up about 13 kms on our pedometer. A very pleasant, though slightly exhausting, walk home from church.

Day 19 We still lionize bankers

As a result of the Global Financial Crisis there has been an ongoing controversy about the salaries of bankers. Sadly this is not a new story. In the late 19^th century a bachelor banker by the name of Edouard Andre set up house in a new and fashionable part of Paris on the wide and prestigious Boulevard Haussmann. Edouard’s house is now a museum and it shows that the bonuses paid to bankers of the 19^th century must have been even greater than today.

The house was grand, but elegant rather than ostentatious. It is set back from the road, which is unusual in Paris as most houses are built right onto the street. The architect’s aim was to make it more prominent and more easily noticed. It was lovely to stand in front of the house and imagine the array of coaches and buggies which would have brought guests up and around a sweeping cobblestone driveway to the main entrance of the house and then leave by another ramp on the opposite side. It was designed to avoid traffic jams.

The house would have made any Wall Street banker envious. The first three huge formal rooms all had walls that were technological marvels of their day as they could hydraulically descend into the floor. This opened up the space so that the owners could entertain up to 1000 people. The music room had a wonderful gallery level, which provided a chamber from which music seemed to be heard from the heavens. The architect who designed the house had missed out on getting the job of designing the Paris Opera House and his revenge was to include in the design of this house an extraordinary staircase, which wrapped around a huge fresco. The fresco had been moved in its entirety from Venice.

Edouard loved art and this led to him deciding to have his own portrait painted. Nelie Jacquemart, was the artist who was chosen to do the portrait and she not only impressed him with her talent but also with her beauty and after a period of time, they were married. Once married they set about turning Edouard’s already impressive art collection into one of the most important private collections in 19^th century France. The eclectic collection includes sculptures, furniture, tapestries, frescoes and even intricate wooden inlaid church pews. The highlights of the collection were paintings by Renoir, Bortticelli, Titan and many others. Eduoard and Nelie traveled the world, but they especially loved Florence and Venice and they went there every year to spend their annual art budget that was normally 3 to 5 times larger than the government’s allocated budget for its national collection in places like the Louvre. Their travels took them further a field to the Middle East, China and Africa. After Edouard’s death his widow continued to keep collecting and traveling and enjoyed a trip to India and Burma.

The couple had no children and Nelie, who inherited his fortune, donated her home and art collection to the nation on her death. It would be nice to think that if we continue to overpay bankers some might use their wealth in a positive way to benefit generations to come, as Edouard and Nelie did.

Day 18 " Let them eat cake"

It is in an interesting question to consider what it costs to stay in Paris. Traditionally the view is that Paris is one of the most expensive cities in the world to live in and therefore a very expensive city to visit as a tourist. In some sense this is true. Were you to stay in a hotel and eat your meals at restaurants and cafés then your expenses bill would climb very steeply. Surprisingly the way we are living is quite the opposite.

Renting an apartment in Paris is actually very easy to do and is much cheaper than a hotel. We are very fortunate to have this little place in the less fashionable, but we think thoroughly acceptable and interesting, 20^th Arrondissement for just 350 euro a week (a little over $500). Transport on the Metro is easy, convenient and cheap; it will cost us less than €20 a week each, for many, many return trips.(It is even cheaper for locals who use a Navigocard). Home cooked food is cheap. Milk is a little over €1 a litre and a packet of chocolate biscuits (Casino home brand) is €0.89. Today at the local markets we bought two large trays of cherry tomatoes for €1, a bag of six small potatoes for €0.60, 4 apricots for €0.28, a baguette for €0.90 and a really yummy French pastry was a big splurge at €3. Beef is expensive but the French seem to eat more fish, chicken, duck and rabbit, that are less expensive. The French are known for all sorts of exotic foods but in reality they eat a large variety of vegetables, which are plentiful, cheap and delicious. In fact we think we can live here as cheaply, if not more cheaply, than at home. Museums can put a dint in the budget but we have found a number of smaller ones that are very reasonably priced and some are actually free. Also it costs nothing to wander.

However, some items which we have noticed in the patisseries that appear to be very expensive are special cakes which are sometimes as much as €8, €15 or even €45! They look a bit like a family sized meat pie with very fluffy puff pastry. Inside they are filled with a sweet almond flavoured filling. We have learnt that they are called La Galette des Rois (Kings Cakes) and are only eaten in January. Traditionally they were eaten on the 6^th January (Epiphany or the 12^th day of Christmas) as this is the night that celebrates the visit of the Magi (traditionally known as the three wise men or three Kings) to Jesus. Last night we visited the owner of our apartment for a meal and she shared both the tradition and the experience of these cakes with us. Each cake has a small porcelain trinket inside and the person who happens to find the trinket in their slice of cake (in our case Wendy) becomes the king/queen, dons a paper crown (which you get when you purchase the galette) and then that person has the privilege of choosing a partner. These cakes are a special hit with children as they love to have numerous attempts, and thus numerous cakes, to find the treasure and wear the crown. Apparently the patisseries make a great deal of money from the sale of these cakes, which may explain why many of their other products are very reasonably priced.

We think anyone can live like a King in Paris without breaking the bank.

Day 17 "Victory belongs to the most persevering"- Napoleon Bonaparte

Before spending time in wintery Paris it is unlikely that we would have ever thought that a day spent walking outside in temperatures as low as five degrees was pleasant. But as the sun struggled to appear we enjoyed a long walk, which began at the Louvre and continued through the Jardin des Tuileries and then along Rue d’ Royale past some very fancy shops. This led us to La Madeline a grand neoclassical temple originally built to commemorate Napoleon’s glorious armies but later dedicated to the glory of God and to honour the mother of Jesus. Because of its original purpose it is a very unusual church – but none the less magnificent. After a good look around we detoured to the Palace Vendome, laid out in 1702, but most recently famous as being the home of the Paris Ritz. Originally in its centre was a monument to Louis XIV, however that monument was destroyed during the French revolution and Napoleon replaced it with a 44 metre high column, made from 1200 melted down cannons and erected to celebrate his own great victories. We then walked back to the Seine and crossed over a delightful new pedestrian bridge called Passerelle Leopold-Sedar-Senghor, and then on past the Palais-Bourbon (the home of the French National Assembly) and the Les Invalides (now the home of the French Military Museum) and finally around to the Dome Church and Napoleon’s tomb. Napoleon lies under the magnificent golden dome encased in six coffins, which fit inside each other like a Russian doll. Quite a stroll!

During our stroll we were very touristy and enjoyed a birds eye view from the Roude de Paris, the 60 metre temporary ferris wheel, which is itself a visitor to Paris. Although a much bigger ferris wheel had been erected in Paris in 1900 (it was torn down) this wheel was first erected for the New Millennium celebrations in 1999, but was removed after some time and the ferris wheel now tours the world. It often comes back to Paris for the Christmas/New Year celebrations. It is so temporary that it isn’t even secured to the ground but instead is held down with a water ballast of 40,000 litres. The whole wheel can be dismantled in 60 hours. The view from the top was very revealing. Paris is a complex city, as layers of history can sometimes confuse modern explorers, such as us, and we often don’t always understand how it all fits together. From the air the view was not only spectacular but also very helpful –in our gondola there were many ‘Ah ha!’ moments as we observed Paris clearly laid out before us on this beautiful winter’s day.

Day 16 Pussycat pussycat where have you been?

It cost us $17 each to catch a train from Macquarie Centre to the International Airport as we began our journey to Paris. It only cost $64 (an advanced special internet price – you can pay as much as a $1000) to catch the Eurostar from Gare du Nord in Paris to St Pancreas Station in London. So we did! We left at 7.13am and arrived in London at about 8.30am (taking off an hour for the time change). In spite of the fact that the weather has played havoc with the Eurostar over recent weeks the train ran pretty much to schedule. We left Paris in the dark with the snow falling gently around us but as the sun came up we were very surprised to see the UK blanketed in thick snow. This was because of a heavy snow depression affecting the south of England and Wales.

So what to do in London for a day? There are a million things that we could have done, but our day went like this. A quick trip to Leicester Square and a short wait in a queue, in quite heavy snow, allowed us to buy two half-price tickets to a matinee of the musical Oliver. Then a short tube ride to Queenspark and a walk through more heavy snow to Kensington Palace, the former home of Princess Diana. The palace was fascinating with various displays revealing not only something of the lives of its recent residents but also its former glory. This was followed by a stroll through Kensington Gardens, where green had been completely obliterated by white, where ponds were frozen and where the paths were icy and very slippery. In spite of the weather many people were out walking their dogs or enjoying a mid-morning jog through the park.

Out through a different gate, we looked for landmarks to help us find our way to a tube station. Unexpectedly we came upon the famous Albert Hall and had a quick peak inside. Eventually we found our way back to the Underground and caught the tube to Covent Garden for lunch before the show, which was at the remarkable, historical and very grand Theatre Royal Drury Lane. The musical has had a facelift and with a large and enthusiastic cast (great kids!!!) and amazing sets that moved us through Dickensian London, the production was breathtaking.

After the show we enjoyed a leisurely browse through the bookshops along Charring Cross Rd and around Trafalgar Square… a booklover’s paradise. With the Australian dollar doing well, books were very cheap in London.

Finally we headed back to St Pancreas to catch the train at 8pm, which got us home at about 12.30am, after a short delay and the one-hour time change. Fortunately the Paris metro runs late (in fact the trains were still full of people) and we were back in our apartment at about 1am.

A terrific day! Our only gripe was with the English food and dress sense. Gone were the wonderful array of women’s boots that we see in Paris, to be replaced by gumboots and ugg boots (not very sensible in the snow). As for the food, we have been spoilt in Paris, and let’s just say that the poor old Poms don’t have a clue!

Day 15 Une Baguette, s'il vous plait.

In pre-agricultural days it was a man’s job to go out early and hunt for the family so that they would have food to eat for breakfast. Richard’s early morning task in Paris is slightly easier. He dons his warm weather gear and walks down the street to one of the three possible boulangeries (we take it in turns) to buy our breakfast. Each day he has the following conversation.

‘Bonjour (Hello) Une Baguette, s'il vous plaît, (one baguette please – pointing just in case the lady is confused) Merci (thank you) Au Revoir (Good-bye)’. With the exchange of one euro Richard is on his way home with his one metre long bread stick.

The baguette was originally created in Paris but has since spread throughout France and to many other parts of the world. However please don’t think that the French bread stick you buy at Bakers Delight in Sydney (which, for some reason, was always referred to as a husband beater by Richard’s family when he was growing up) bears any resemblance with the bread we are eating in Paris. The baguette here is just superb. It is crisp on the outside but on the inside it is incredibly light and fluffy. It provides lasting rewards to the eater as this exquisite bread is designed to be munched slowly. It is not dry like much of the rubbish bread in Australia. It is moist, firm and chewed without any jaw ache. It is perfect on its own, but even more perfect with butter, jam or a slice of tomato. It is beyond perfection with a smear of Camembert cheese, which is so cheap here that you can use it like butter.

30 million baguettes are consumed in France each day – one for every two people. We have been doing our best to keep up the national averages. For the French croissants are a weekend or special occasion food – the baguette is to be eaten every day. We give thanks to the Lord who has answered our prayer in a way that delivers such gastronomical joy - give us this day our daily bread.

Day 14 No fleas on us.

Having more time in the one place has given us the opportunity to see some things that go beyond the normal tourist route; one such place is the Paris Flea markets. Just out of town on the edge of the metro we arrived on a day when, in theory, it was a bit warmer but in reality, the fog never really lifted and the cold seemed to seep into your bones. The history of these flea markets dates back over two centuries when the rag and bone men scoured the dumps and then set up stalls to sell what they had collected. Today the markets are much more organized. At one end of these markets you can find the finest and most expensive French antiques (including a Louis Vuitton chest worth 12,000 euros) and at the other end you can still sift though piles of junk, find a treasure and make an offer to the stallholder. In between, are shops of collectables, for almost anything you can imagine collecting. Sadly many of the stalls were closed today, but there were still more antique French clocks than Paul Keating would ever know what to do with. Despite spending a couple of hours wandering and rummaging we didn’t find anything we wanted to bring home.

Later in the day we found ourselves back near the Hotel d’Ville checking out the free ice-skating rink in the square outside the hotel. It was a far cry from the ice rink at Macquarie Shopping Centre and it was actually quite a bit smaller.

We wandered down some of Paris’s most famous streets including rue de Montorgueil, which is well known for its fine bakeries, cheese shops and butcheries. We decided however that some of these famous streets are not very different from so many other streets in this great city. The cakes shops, for example, which are found at the end of our street are as good as any we have seen in Paris. Our day ended with a little Quiche Lorraine from our local patisserie which was lighter and fluffier than any we have ever eaten and a Tiramisu that any Italian would be proud to call his own (all found in our local neighbourhood for less than 4 euro in total).

Day 12,13 A brush with fame

The weather continues to be cold which means our activities are a little restricted. Saturday morning was spent in the snow at our local food markets, which appear near the metro station twice a week. Some of the stallholders are even getting to know us- one refers to us as the ‘wallabies’ referring to Australia’s national rugby team. This week we bought fresh ravioli, apricots, mandarins, veal cordon bleu, fresh farm eggs and a loaf of champagne bread. Next week we hope to buy a small rabbit to roast, some freshly minced meat and some roasted chestnuts. We are planning ahead!!

The afternoon was cold and drizzly so we walked down to our local cinema and watched a VO movie, version original. We sat in a rather small cinema with no more than 10 other people and watched a movie in English called It’s Complicated, in French it’s called Pas si Simple. We have long enjoyed watching French movies with English subtitles, so it was fun to watch an English-speaking movie with French subtitles.

Sunday was a busy day as we attended two different church services, the most impressive being the one at the American Protestant Church of Paris. A great sermon, some great modern hymns, an incredible building and a very friendly group made it a very pleasant experience. In the afternoon we returned to Trinity International Church, which we had visited last Sunday. After the second service we went for a wonderful late afternoon, wander through the Latin Quarter. We were feeling cold and in need of sustenance so we ventured into a café called La Rhumerie. We enjoyed a hot chocolate but noticed some women near us were eating something that looked and smelt delicious. We asked the waiter if ‘we could have what they are having?’ The women overheard our request and nodded and encouraged us in limited English that we had made the right choice. They then watched with eager anticipation as we tried some delicious little deep fried fish cakes. They did not disappoint!

Finally we had an amazing brush with fame – yes real fame. Richard wandered to les toilettes des messieurs and on the way back was sure that he had seen someone at a nearby table who he recognised. He came back to our table amazed to have seen this person in such an ordinary cafe. We decided to wait a while to see if it really was the person he thought it was. After awhile a well dress guy (who looked a lot like a secret service agent) appeared, paid the bill, and surveyed the restaurant before an older man followed him out. Other restaurant patrons also recognized him and one even jumped up and had his picture taken with the great man. As he passed us we said hello, and he nodded an acknowledgement to us. Richard had to restrain himself from challenging him about nuclear testing in the Pacific…yes it was Jacques Chirac the President of France from 1995-2007. Wow!

Day 11 Maison de Victor Hugo

Paris has over 140 museums including some of the most famous in the world. There are however a number of small, interesting and free museums such as Maison de Victor Hugo, a museum, operated by the City of Paris, which is located in the house that Victor Hugo lived in for 16 years from 1832–1848. The museum is on one floor of a very grand house, and it preserves the memory and many of the original furnishings, of one of France’s greatest literary figures.

Paintings in the foyer of Victor Hugo’s military father and long suffering mother (who was divorced by his father) explain something of Hugo’s grand heritage and yet his understanding of real suffering. The main living room is remarkable not least for the view out the window onto one of Paris’s most revered squares, Place des Vosges. On this cold day the kids played in the park in much the same way that Hugo’s much-adored children probably did nearly 200 years ago. Some of his treasured paintings and a huge marble bust of the great man, complete the decorations in the living room.

Moving through the house there is a re-creation of an Asian styled room which Hugo himself designed while in exile on the Isle of Guernsey. The room was designed not for his wife, who did not like his attempts at interior decoration, but for his mistress of over 40 years.

In another room there is a table on which are placed the inkwells of Alexandre Dumas, George Sand, Lamartine and Hugo himself.

The highlight of the museum is his bedroom – and most notably the desk at which he wrote most of his plays, poems, novels and articles. It is a very tall desk, as he always wrote standing up. It was wonderful to see the desk on which the story of Les Miserables was written. It is the story of how the grace of the good bishop of Digne, allowed the convict Jean Vajean, to find redemption and a life of service, honour and love. Les Miserables is a special favourite of many members of the Quadrio family. To be so close the desk, that Hugo laboured at, for almost two decades, to write this amazing story, was truly an honour.

Day 10 Walking in a winter wonderland

After a couple of wonderful trips to Europe and the UK in summer we had often wondered what it would be like to travel to this part of the world in winter. We are quickly finding out. By all reports Europe is experiencing it coldest winter in 30 years. Winter, to be honest, is a challenge but we note the following:

1. Inside our apartment we are much warmer than we are inside our own house in winter. Double gazing and central heating means that our apartment remains a very warm environment and we have actually had to turn down the heater at night so that we sleep more soundly. Inside, we never feel cold at all.

2. The daylight hours are short as the sun doesn’t come up until 8.30am and is well and truly down by 5.30pm

3. Going out does require a little preparation. For Richard this will include a lightweight quick-dry t-shirt, a second woollen thermal t-shirt, a thermal jumper and then a down jacket. Thermal long johns also make a big difference under a pair of lightweight jeans. A beanie on your head, and either gloves for your hands, or your hands plunged deep into your pockets, completes the preparation. Wendy also adds a warm woolly scarf. Once fully attired in all of this gear it is quite pleasant outside, except that your face nearly freezes and after awhile you can’t move your lips to pronounce the letter w

4. We are still able to walk around but depending on the amount of wind and sun determines how long you can be outside. In the last few days the temperature hasn’t risen above -1.

5. We have had quite a bit of snow but this hasn’t prevented us from going outside. The snow is fun but makes walking difficult as the pavements become quite slippery.

We have taken the opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with some of Paris’s most famous attractions. A walk down the Champs Elysees was wonderful in spite of a very slippery sidewalk. Walking to the Eiffel Tower through a fair bit of snow was a bit like walking on sand – it was quite tiring.

The Eiffel Tower looked gracious as always framed against a clear, cold sky and although the snow had stopped falling the tower was closed to tourists because of snow and ice. You would be very disappointed if you were only in Paris for one day and your one chance to go up the tower was denied because of winter weather. So there is a price to pay for visiting Europe at this time of the year, however the up side is that most places are quieter, queues are shorter and there is still plenty to do inside.

4.

Day 9 A day at the opera, a night at the ballet.

We had often walked past the Palais Garnier – Opera National de Paris (Paris Opera House) and marveled at a building that looks magnificent by day and sublime by night. Being fans of the Phantom we had always wondered how to get a peak inside. After some investigation we discovered that for 9 Euro you can do an unguided tour of the grand staircase, the reception rooms and the auditorium. We decided to give it a go but when we arrived we were disappointed to read a notice that sad yes, we could do a tour, but on this particular day the main auditorium was closed due to rehearsals. We had also noticed the sign saying that all tickets for January were sold out. Not to be deterred, we thought we would just check at the box office. A rather grumpy Frenchwoman at the box office confirmed that all the tickets were sold out for January—except for two good tickets for tonight’s ballet. We asked what was playing but we did not understand the reply. The tickets were reasonably priced so we decided that we would broaden our horizons even if it meant being exposed to a 20^th Century ballet.

So dressed as well as we could be with our limited resources, we arrived at 7.30pm and were ushered up the grand staircase not as outside observers but as part of the audience. Our tickets were in what we would call the stalls but were described as Orchestra II. The expensive, more spacious and raised seats behind us seemed to be filled with the crème of French society, fabulously dressed but many looking a little unhappy. The rest of the audience was mixed, from the elegantly dressed to tourists with cameras and tripods. The building was indeed elegant, opulent and very much as you would imagine it to look if you have seen the Phantom of the Opera. Before we sat down we looked up and observed the huge, yet quite stable looking chandelier directly above us.

Finally you may be wondering about the ballet. Well the dancing, drama, colour and choreography were passionate, powerful and incredibly skillful. Our seats were close enough to hear the dancers feet hit the floor, to see their heaving chests and to see the sweat of exhaustion. Richard especially, a ballet novice, was surprised at the emotional drama the dance evoked. As to the meaning, well all of the four ballets, left us a little puzzled. The first, was based on a famous play by Jean-Paul Satre about hell and meaninglessness of life. Mr Satre may have disapproved, as the dance was probably a bit happier than his despairing drama. The second and third ballets remain mysteries but we enjoyed them just the same. The final and longest ballet was apparently based on a famous 20^th Century surreal poem. The 20^th Century has a lot to answer for!

In spite of our ignorance, our day at the opera, which turned into a night at the ballet, was existentially filled with meaning and joy.

Day 8 School's out!

The 20^th Arrondissement, where we are staying does not rank highly in tourist guidebooks, but a lengthy late afternoon walk revealed some surprises. Some friends had told us that about a kilometre up the road from where we are staying there is a quaint cobble stoned street with some rather pleasant cafes. The cafes were closed when we were there, but the old street, which leads up the hill to the church was indeed a treasure. As we walk we do our best to guess the meaning of French words and we notice the word ecole appears outside a number of institutions all of which appear to be bustling with life. At 4.30pm school is finishing and mums and dads are picking up pre-schoolers and primary aged kids while the high school kids are making their own way home.

Of course everyone is dressed for the icy cold weather. We smile as we see little kids in strollers with their arms outstretched to either side because they are unable to bend their arms on account of their very bulky coats and scarves. A distinguished African man wearing a well-cut suit and carrying a brief case in one hand pushes a child in a stroller with his other hand. Mothers linger around the school gates no doubt catching up on the latest news and gossip. No school uniforms are in sight. The high schoolers like their counterparts worldwide are trying to look cool and in Paris that means they are all smoking. Although it is very cold the teenagers seemed in no hurry to get home and are taking the opportunity to hang out for a little longer on the streets. Various generations meet in the bread shop for an afternoon snack, for what else, but a baguette.

We make our way down a hill and look for a shortcut back to where we had started and walk down a steep path through a graveyard attached to the local parish church. Parents and school students follow the same path and a short cut through the graveyard seems to be a regular route home from school.

As the sun sets on the icy streets we make our way back to our apartment. We feel safe in this city environment and our only real concern is dodging the effects on the streets of Paris’s love affair with their dogs. We would like to think that we have blended into our Paris city neighbourhood but as our coats are not black, as are everyone else’s , and with Katmandu printed on the front, we are still the obvious tourists.

Day 7 Where have all the students gone?

On a cold, sunny morning we ventured out, well rugged up, to explore one of Paris’s largest and most beautiful parks, Jardin du Luxenburg.

The winter skeletons of trees gave us only a clue to their summer majesty. The magnificent octagonal pond in the centre of the park was a source of amusement to us as we watched birds walk across the icy water. People lounged in deck chairs enjoying the sun – resplendent in their coats, gloves, scarves and woollen beanies or berets. Cameras flashed at the Medici fountain that was also frozen silent. Lovers kissed despite the fear that their lips might be permanently frozen together. A walk in an icy park was an experience to remember.

From the gardens we enjoyed a delightful stroll through the Latin Quarter on the left bank of the Seine through the home of Paris’s intellectuals, artists and students. A quick look into one of Paris’s most famous cafés gave us a considerable shock. Though Café De Flore may well have been a haunt of Jean-Paul Satre, it is unlikely he would have been thrilled at the idea of paying 8 Euro ($13) for a Vienna Chocolate. In fact the café was filled with tourists and the upwardly mobile but not surprisingly there was not a student to be found. We walked out without ordering, deciding to look elsewhere to find where the students of today were sipping their coffee.

Around the corner we decided on a more authentic and less expensive chocolate crepe from a street stall. While Richard waited in the queue, Wendy went in search of somewhere warm to enjoy the crepe and the only alternative appeared to be the McDonalds next door. Wendy ordered two hot chocolates and found a seat with a wonderful view of the street below, on the second floor. As Richard walked in carrying his two crepes, he was accosted by an employee, of only 15, who told him in no uncertain terms in rapid French, that Maccas was not the place to enjoy a street stall crepe. Luckily Wendy could show the pre-purchased hot chocolates, which managed to appease him. We sat and ate and enjoyed the view. As we got up to leave we looked around us and suddenly discovered that the students of the Left Bank were all there, laptops open (for free wifi), mobile phones connected, i-pods shuffling and remarkably even some books and notepads in use. So there are still students in the famous Latin Quarter—they have just moved on. C’est la vie! (That’s life!)

Day 6 Home away from home.

After another uneventful drive on the wrong side of the road back from the Loire Valley we arrived safely at Orly Aiport where we were to drop off our car. We then headed back on the train and then the metro to eventually arrive at our home-away-from-home for the next two and a half weeks. We are staying in a little apartment that we had heard about through a friend before our last trip to Europe in 2008. We enjoyed our stay here enormously and at the time we commented to each other that we would love to come back here one day for study leave – we are surprised that this has come about so soon.

The studio is on the Right Bank of Central Paris in the 20^th Arrondissement. If you know Paris we are just around the corner from the most visited cemetery in the world Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise. If you are unfamiliar with Paris we are on the eastern edge of the 100 square km circle that, with it’s over two million people, makes up Central Paris. To get into the apartment you first have to enter a security code before passing through a huge wooden door, which is painted bright blue. The block is at least six stories high and without a lift. Luckily we are on the second floor. The unit is small, with a narrow cluttered entry hall, a tiny kitchen, a small bathroom and a lounge/dining/bedroom about the size of a reasonably sized master bedroom (such as Jim Masterton might build in Kellyville). It is decorated in a rather over the top, unique, crazy, French, eclectic style with a touch of shabby chic. It is filled with flea market treasures including about twenty cushions, which grace the two dining chairs, two small lounge chairs and the bed (that is before we put them away). But most importantly it is beautifully warm!

It is wonderful to unpack (although finding somewhere to put our clothes was a challenge) and begin to feel at home. We are located only about 300 metres from the metro and more importantly about 50 metres from a bakery, which sells the most divine baguettes for a steal (1 euro). Even though we did not arrive till nearly 3pm we decided we would still try to get to an English speaking church we had heard about called Trinity International Church. With the wonders of the French metro we arrived only 10 minutes late, even though it was located on the other side of Paris. We enjoyed a church service that was very much like our church at home. It was an interesting experience being a visitor and we were very grateful to the one kind French woman who did her best to talk to us. Although she spoke perfect English, she did not seem to understand a word that Richard said. At one point she commented ‘You have a very strong accent!’ After leaving church and making our way back to our cosy, little apartment we were able to enjoy our first home cooked meal for over a week…scrambled eggs!

Day 5 A frosty picnic and a gastronomical experience.

We awoke in Amboise to a clear sky and a low temperature of -5 degrees. The frost was something to behold. It took twenty minutes for the car heater to clear the windscreen and in places where the sun shone the frost was gone by lunchtime, but in places where there was no sun, the frost remained all day. In Australia we go to ridiculous lengths to whiten the ends of Christmas trees and in Amboise the trees were naturally white, with what looked like snow, but was actually a very thick frost.

The main events of the day were visits to several of the Loire Valley’s famous chateaux. The first, Chateau de Chenonceau, was built across the Cher River in the 13^th Century and at one time was given to Henry ll’s mistress, Diane de Poitiers, as a gift. After Henry’s death his wife Catherine Medici demanded it back and extended it so that it resembled her hometown of Florence. English castles are grandly impressive, but French Chateaux are simply beautiful. The second chateau we visited was our next door neighbour in Amboise, Chateau d’ Amboise. Only one fifth of this magnificent building remains standing but we were overawed. The gardens were formal with slopes covered with elegant box topiary, wonderful rows of white pots, and orderly trees that had been uniformly pruned and the occasional stretch of frosty lawn (not to be walked upon, of course).

Once again our treat on this day was for our stomachs. Breakfast at our accommodation was so plentiful that we had enough left over for a very chilly picnic next to a ruined chateau on top of Montrichard. Dinner was a gastronomically one-off 7 course degustation (no choice given but a small serve of whatever the chef had prepared using produce that was in season). Here is our rough translation of what we think we ate.

1. Bread of course, then pumpkin soup with truffles. Yum!

2. Fois Gras (‘fat liver’ made from the liver of a duck that has been especially fattened) with raspberry jam and toasted baguette with a sprinkle of salt and sugar. Sounds odd but surprisingly delicious.

3. Tandori scallops and cabbage. Even better!

4. Lobster cappuccino with cayenne pepper! Yes, you read correctly and it was good.

5. Beef fillet with mashed potato. So tender and flavorsome!

6. Dessert (a degustation all of its own) – pear, almond ice-cream, chocolate tart, crème brulee, passionfruit custard, pineapple, chocolate cake and ginger. All to die for!

7. And lastly an apple crumble, which was only 2cm in diameter, and served with a cream and egg chaser.

8. We passed on the optional cheese platter.

All very reasonably priced and paid for with a birthday gift from Richard’s mum. Thanks Mum! How do the French remain so slim?

Day 4 100 not out!

We were not able to get into our studio apartment for another couple of days so we decided we would spend a few days out of town. As we are not big on parties the decision was made to celebrate our combined 100 years of life (yes we have now both turned 50) by having a weekend in the Loire Valley. For the first time in our traveling life we decided to hire a car and continue the adventure on ‘the wrong side of the road’. To our surprise (especially Richard’s) and with Wendy’s encouragement the switch to a left hand drive Citroen Picasso diesel was very smooth. Finding our way out of Paris was challenging but on the open road we settled quickly into the speed limit of 135km/h.

The real treat during the journey to Amboise was the stop at a roadhouse on the side of the A10. Our natural instincts would have been to avoid such a place and find a small town for a more authentic experience. But in the light snow and on the wrong side of the road and the fact that it was a public holiday we were not feeling confident that we could find somewhere to have lunch, so fast food it was. But this roadhouse was still very French. The ‘fast food’ included a chef with a baked ham, salads, roasted potatoes, lasagna, a lovely berry tart for dessert, and if you wanted (we didn’t but everybody else did) a glass or two of red wine. The French sure know how to eat!

Amboise did not disappoint—so quaint and so French.

Day 3 Bonne Annee

New Years Eve began for us with a fascinating three hour walk of discovery through the famous covered galeries or passages couverts of the Right Bank of Paris. Basically these 18^th and 19^th century covered laneways are the antecedents of our modern malls. In days gone by Parisians flocked to these centres of warmth, food and materialism to escape the cold and filth of the Paris streets. A couple of these galleries are beautifully restored, but the most interesting are somewhat neglected and quite tatty. Some are filled with the finest and trendiest shops while others contain shops that stock only old postcards, dolls house furniture or music boxes. Others are the homes of artists, artisans and eccentrics; very Paris and very chic!

Lunch was the experience of a lifetime at a restaurant called Chartier. The food was not worthy of much comment but the vibe was something else. A beautiful three hundred-seat room meant a table for deux (two) was to our surprise (and after a wait) two seats sandwiched in the middle of a table for 6, with our coats stowed above us like a railway carriage. We watched as the waiters, mostly mature aged men, were literally run off their feet. The dexterity of the waiters was something else, with one guy being able to carry seven main meals at one time, on one arm. When we ordered, from a French only menu, our waiter, an elegant young French women with a very grubby apron, scrawled the order onto our paper tablecloth. We were sitting close to the main till and watched in amazement as a queue of waiters would file out of the kitchen and swipe their identity card next to the till while the main cashier would record on her register the meals they were carrying to waiting customers. When our meal ended, the waiter returned to again use our paper tablecloth, like a butcher in a previous generation, to add up the cost of the meal. There was no other bill. As our meal ended and the lunchtime setting was closing the people next to us finished and then something very odd happened. The maître di sat down next to us, and proceeded to do some rather unusual accounting using these restaurant seats as his office. Waiters came with a pile of slips, which he organized, on the table in a series of small drinking glasses. He was obviously tallying up each waiter’s takings for the day. For some waiters there was loud discussion and lots of hand raising. It was entertaining, bizarre and wonderfully odd.

New Years Eve was a long, cold walk down to join some hundreds of thousands of people in the Champs Elysees and then later near the Eiffel Tower. It was interesting in that, as far as we could see, nothing happened- no fireworks, no countdown, no excitement, not even any kissing. However it did seem that everyone had their own bottle of champagne with which they toasted the New Year. Earlier we had seen the crowds queuing outside the fancy dress shop, but alas they must have been at another party because we didn’t see any fancy dress at all. Still a New Year in Paris with a temperature of 1.5 degrees was a new experience. Apparently we can say Bonne Annee (Happy New Year) for the whole of January!