Sebulon

By sebrose

Canonical Paris

We awake, unrefreshed, in Euston. A short, damp walk to St Pancras, where we are too early to check in. So, coffee.

It’s a short, dozy trip to Paris Gâre du Nord. And a short damp walk to the hotel in Montmartre. But a long, windy climb to our room on the fourth floor (extra).

Lunch at Brasserie Barbès. Saucisson Tarn for Kerry. Boudin Parra for me. And a delightful half litre of sulphite-free Brouilly. Replete and tipsy, we head off on foot in search of the tourist attractions of Paris.

The Tuileries, Place de Concord, Champs Elysee, Arc de Triomph, Seine, Tour d’Eiffel, La Fayette, Rue des Martyrs and more. Nine miles later, with sore feet, we collapse in our room for a well earned rest.

Bizarre memory, standing next to the queue for the Eiffel Tower, with night closing in and dozens of hopeful salesmen trying to sell small plastic models for €1, a man emerges from the kiosk and thrusts an unopened bottle of Heineken into my hands. It wasn’t allowed into the secure area :)

We rouse ourselves for long enough to head over the road to an Algerian restaurant for a salad composé and a huge lamb couscous. And then it’s time to negotiate the four windy flights of stairs to pass out in our small, French hotel room.

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