And so, I notice that my blog is now being read in Argentina. That's curious I thought, then I remembered ... hi Kristy, hope the WYD tour is going well. Love to Jae and our contingent.
Paris: shopping ... again
The day began as usual with the workmen next door throwing stuff and yelling at each other. Yelling is a national past-time. You yell on the mobile phone, you yell at someone when you're not happy, you yell really, really loudly when your teenage daughter comes home drunk in the middle of the night. We didn't see what time it was, but the music from the Place had stopped and we had been a sleep for a while. Woken by shouts of "vite! vite!" and "toute de suite". Very untidy. If she was trying to keep her daughter's indiscretion quiet she went about it the wrong way. Every one in the building knew.
Jayne and I went off to our artisan boulanger this morning as usual to find out he doesn't open on weekends. Zut alors! Fortunately I saw a lot of Paris on foot on my own last year so I knew where there was another one not far away. Breakfast safely acquired, we returned to the apartment to rouse the princess from her slumber. While we were getting ready for breakfast David skyped and we had a conversation (of sorts) with Emily.
The plan for the day was to head to the markets at Richard Lenoir and then down to place where we could book a tour to Monet's garden. An easy day as we are all little leg-weary after the last few days. Once again, we were thwarted. No markets at Richard Lenoir today. Jayne assured us there was another market at Bastille, so we walked down there. As we were drawing near we could see many empty stalls. No markets here either. A little closer to the Bastille itself we espied some stalls. It was all jewellery and art today. Cait made some purchases and we decided it was time for a coffee break.
Re-charged by the coffee we opted not to catch the train but continue walking to the booking office for the Monet trip. And that's where the shopping happened. The sales are still on. The shopping is great. Surprise little stores selling the most amazing things. I bought three more shirts and believe me, no-one in Australia will have anything like them :) Cait also purchased many things but Jayne could not be convinced to enter into the shopping spirit. Perhaps she has some weird genetic deficiency and lacks the shopping gene. Clearly I have passed the shopping gene on to Cait.
As entertaining as the shopping was and as interesting as the people watching turned out to be, our energies were flagging again. We made the booking office and secured tickets for the Monet tour on Tuesday and then went for drinks prior to an assault on the shops on the Champs Elysees.
We walked down Rue St Honore today rather than the Rue de Rivoli. Interesting move. Initially it was to avoid crowds, but the former street turned out to the home to all the designer fashion houses: Cartier, Prada, Dolce & Gabana and Gucci, to name a few. We ended walking further because we ran into consulate area and lots of places are being locked down in preparation for Bastille Day tomorrow.
The Champs Elysees, as the song goes, is a very busy street. Arghhh, crowds. Too many people in such confined spaces. It brings out the worst in me. I get footpath rage and shop rage. It doesn't take much to be polite and be aware of other people. It just doesn't happen here. We successfully negotiated Banana Republic and then went into the Disney shop. Mon Dieu! They had an in and out lane it was that crowded. Then there prams and unsupervised children and stupid pushy people. And that, dear reader is where the blog title comes from - I would never, ever, normally venture into such a place because I know it will cause me untold grief. Anyway, we purchased some things for Emily. Mission accomplished. BTW David, we have already purchased Aidan's present (Cait's edit: Dad, it's going to be a girl, you just need to accept that; David, we have already purchased Kyrie's present).
Keep in mind that today was supposed to be a quiet day. Jayne then thought it would be a good idea if we walked up to L'Arc de Triomphe because there is a shop on level 2 where you can buy trinkets. I felt like the only salmon who knew the correct direction in which to swim. Everyone else was heading down the street and we seemed to be the only ones climbing toward the Arc. It was touch and go - Cait almost murdered a small child who was standing, arms akimbo, in between his stupid parents and their friends, as they had a chat in the middle of the pavement.
Despite adversity, we reached our destination. Quelle surprise! There was a queue. And you had to pay to go into the L'Arc. €9 or something, just to see if they had what we wanted. No way. Out the other side of the tunnel into another and back to the Metro. We waited longer than the usual 2 minutes for a train and the platform became quite crowded. When it finally arrived there was a small battle between people trying to get off and those wanting to get on. Cait made it, Jayne was part of the way there when the dreaded door-closing warning was sounded. I had no chance. The two sets of doors: barrier and train doors, slammed on Jayne's shoulder and her dignity. I could do nothing but wave goodbye. It's a lesson in politeness and obviously one reason why everyone pushes over here.
The next train was the standard 3 minutes away and was less crowded, but I made sure I was in prime position to get on. Once settled I sent a text to Cait, "tell mum I said, that'll bruise". "Already said that" came the reply. We met up at Bastille where we needed to change lines and got off at Oberkampf and purchased some requisites for dinner and walked towards home. I sent the girls to the apartment and went shopping for a bottle of wine that Cait would like to drink.
By the time I finally arrived at the apartment it was close to 7pm. I left home at 10:30am, that means I was walking or on my feet for 8 and a half hours. Glad we decided it was going to be a quiet day!
Recovery time. Dinner? Good question since we forgot to eat lunch. Champagne and baguette. Life is good.
I haven't been brave enough to take my shoes off yet, but this is also because there are 7 police vans on our street corner. Maybe I'll need to go and see what's happening later. What is planned for the Republique tonight? Or perhaps the screeching madame has friends in the gendarmerie and they are her to ensure her daughter doesn't take her hangover to town.
 |
| Me working hard at the next blog post. |
No comments:
Post a Comment