Thursday, 7 February 2013

Paris in the winter time

The journey to London was uneventful enough and I found a cheap bed for the night near the coach station. Unfortunately the bed was the top of a triple decked bunk (yes there are such things) with two rather large Russian gentlemen below who moved in their sleep so it was a little like sleeping in a boat on a stormy sea. In the morning I got a coach to Paris via the tunnel, I'm not normally claustrophobic but there was something odd about being in a bus, in a train, in a tunnel. The driver was a cheery chappie who managed the journey in total silence until arriving at Charles de Gaulle airport where he put on the intercom and muttered "Charles de Gaulle" in a tone that implied he had been telling us for hours and was sick of being asked. This done he did not speak again including at the final stop in Paris.

I made my way across the city to where I am staying, which turned out to be a classic Parisian garret (check spelling) a tiny three room flat in the top of a block with a view of the Eiffel tower.

 As my host had plans for the evening I went to a couchsurfing meeting in a bar across town and on the way discovered a fascinating art gallery/workshop where you could watch various art being made.

Today I walked from the flat to the Latin quarter then up to Pantheon where I tried to work out the, no doubt fascinating, information boards that were only in French. Then I met up with my host and we did a walking tour from the Chinese area in Belleview down to the cemetery  where Jim Morrison is burried - although his was not one of the graves we found. There weren't a lot of sights as such but some great views of the city and it was fascinating to see a side of Paris tourists don't normally get to.

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