my hands are shaking and my knees are weak (Paris)

Paris: La Tour Eiffel

Since this is my blog and I have the editorial rights, I could say that title refers to Caitlin and her fear of heights.  That, however, would be sadly dishonest.  Heights.  Ughhh.  Like flying, they can be a necessary evil and to see the view from the top you have to be there in the first place.  Ok, then, not top, but level 2.  I would have gone all the way, but Cait didn't want to and I felt, as her father, I should support her cowardly fear of heights (with my own).

The day dawned, eventually, the sun doesn't really get strong till around lunch, but the day dawned sans music!  Oh yes, we slept because there was no concert in the Republique and the hip-hop morons didn't spin  a disc.  All we had to deal with was the heat, the creaky floors, echoed conversations from open windows and loud bangs form the street.  Even the workers next door didn't drop their first lot of equipment until 8am.  Yes, of course I was awake before then, but that's not the point, I could have slept in had I wanted.

Usual start to the day.  Out to purchase breakfast.  Home to enjoy pastries and bread the like of which bakers in Australia are unable to produce.  Clear email blah blah blah and off the the metro to catch a train to the Tower.

Starting later in the day meant less crowds, but the travelling buskers seem to be stalking us.  Today there was a violinist and a trumpet player.

After Caitlin, read Gen Y, negotiated a concern with our online ticket purchase, we safely avoided the massive queues and walked straight to the lift for level 2.  Up, up and away, with the usual pushing and shoving.  Paris is truly a city that recognises women's liberation.  It is very person for themselves, on the metro, in a lift, on the pavement, where ever.  Never was there a more apt adage for this city than: he who hesitates is lost.

First to the gift shops to secure the elusive Eiffel Tower charm bracelet.  No deal!  In any of the three shops.  So much for internet accuracy of information.  Then a couple of laps outside, a few happy snaps (see below) and then down the stairs to level 1, for much of the same.

Sacre Coeur in the distance

That next level is a little too far

More sunburn

Part of the queue

Once back on terra firma, Cait and I decided that it wasn't so bad after all.  This is a good thing, because Jayne and I are having dinner at Jules Verne Restaurant on Thursday night on level 2.

What to do?  Lunch? Excellent idea.  Back to the metro and over to Saint-Germain, the home of the restaurant Le Comptoir.  Dad found an article about it in the Daily Telegraph.  Despite this dodgy recommendation we decided to have lunch there.  As the article suggested, there was queue.  I do not queue.  While we were waiting and I was eyeing the half-empty restaurant across the road, I suggested to Jayne and Cait that they should check out the menu.  A wise call as it turned out.  All they served was crazy French food: pig's trotter, pork braised in milk, stake tartare (raw hamburger mince) mmmm. Yummy.

I queue for no man, or woman either.  Or lunch, in fact.

Anyway, lunch was delightful at Les Editeurs across the road.  We were eating before the queue had moved at all.  Cait had steak, I had lamb and Jayne had risotto.  And wine. And bread. And coffee. And Cait had dessert.  No waiting, although it was crowded when we left.

Notable sighting today - a woman with a sock bun that needed its own postcode it was soooo big, tottered up onto the station as we headed to lunch.  She strolled along the platform and then promptly went back down to level she had just left, presumably just so we on the platform could all admire her amazing hairdo.  

Home for a rest afternoon and to plan the next few days.  We are heading to Giverny tomorrow afternoon and to the nearest markets in the morning.  We haven't quite finished shopping for presents.

Fashion for Sydney 2014

Based on what is out and about in Paris, for men, coloured jeans are still the go, as are coloured shorts and v-neck Ts.  For the ladies, read and weep, fluoro is back, in shoes and shirts. Lace and open-backed dresses are also on the way.