A Weekend Parisienne

I have just resumed my position at the bar after a sensational weekend in Paris.....

I arrived back in London on Friday night after returning from Leeds (where I could be seen shivering in the streets wearing a toga) and managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep before getting the 6am tube back into the Victoria coach station. A return trip to Paris costing me only £35 and 6-7 hours on the bus each way - a total bargain.

After reading my book until our bus arrived in France (via the train - they load the buses into large carriages) I drifted off to sleep until I awoke in the midst of Paris. Disembarking and checking the instructions that I had been given I figured out that I was not where I was supposed to be (or not where Rachel thought I was arriving). By this stage I had already decided that my French was worse than my Northern Mongolian and being unable to contact Rach, I managed to piece together where I was and where I supposed to go on the Metro from a variety of bus maps showing small segments of the city. Thirty minutes later and I was swapping the obligatory double cheek greeting kiss with Rach and Jake at the Bastille (although a handshake sufficed with Jake). A short walk and we arrived at their very cool apartment, a perfect mix of old and new. After a delicious duck dinner with the accompanying fresh baguette and French wine we headed out to the first of a series of live music and other exhibitions put on for the night - as apparently I had arrived for the weekend of some annual festival, the name of which has left me for the moment.

After a petit promenade around the the place to check out what was on we headed up to Sacre Coeur where there were 300 guitars and one drummer at the foot of the church, and a stunning view of Paris behind us with all sorts of lasers around the city. Some free coffee later (I chose the 'Sydney' variety and was disappointed, so had to go back for some other flavours) we found ourselves at a live performance of Brazilian DJ's and dancers. We spent the rest of the evening there before heading home and chewing the fat (or pistachio nuts it turned out to be).

We were up at midday the next day for cafe and pan chocolat after we donned our race-going attire. The venue was the Hippodrome de Longchamps for the Prix du Arc de Triomphe, the highlight of the French racing calendar. I would say that people came from far and wide to witness the spectacle, but I wouldn't call anywhere in Europe far or wide. The champagne and baguettes flowed freely and we did our best to analyse the form guide with a view to winning a pocket of cash to fund a lavish night out. Unfortunately our analyses were poor and our winnings amounted to one beers worth of euros. So feeling hungry, light pocketed and a little tired we made our way into the centre of town to drown the memory of bets placed on three legged sloths claiming to be race horses. We wandered into a little cafe/bar named Mois du Vin, mainly for the use of it's toilet, and ended up embarking on an evening of the most sensational food I've ever tasted and some thoroughly enjoyable live jazz.

Not long after finding ourselves a corner in the dimly lit cafe a saxophonist, two guitarists and a double basist (would that have another name?) struck up an energetic and engaging series of songs. After a little while a lady in the crowd, caught up in the energy and to the delight of the band and crowd, whipped out a pair of castanets and began playing as though she had been a band member from day one. Maybe a band member turned up late, or maybe he too got excited and raced home for his saxophone, but soon there was a second saxophonist appearing from nowhere, and the place was now booming with two saxophones seemingly making up the music as they fed off each others solos. In the meantime we had feasted upon fois gras and other ducky treats, selection of hams and some mouth watering honey roasted Camembert. And this was before I even started to go weak at the knees from the taste. The Argentinean steak and accompanying sauteed new potatoes and baked (or roasted) vegetables were like nothing I have ever tasted. My whirlwind eating tendency was stopped in its tracks as I tried to savour every molecule of flavour that existed in the meat and vegetables. Needless to say the chocolate fondue and subsequent coffee were obligatory and were the perfect finish to a culinary experience like no other (Burger King after the 5 hour back-of-truck ride up road in Bolivia is a close 2nd).

The weekend finished with a morning at the foot of the Eiffel Tower (with coffee and pan chocolat of course) and a stroll along the Seine. Then back on the bus to London, top weekend completed.

Catching up with a Canberran connection made me realise how much fun and how good my friends were in Canberra and I was struck with feelings of nostalgia as I lay awake that night (remember that post dinner coffee I mentioned....). I know a few of you have plans to visit this corner of the world in the next 12 months - can't wait.

In other exciting news - I have got my national insurance number (Tax File Number equivalent), a job interview on Thursday with an NGO (Lucas just had one today) and I'm moving to London on Thursday also, house hunting will be in top gear over the weekend - as I will be starting work on Monday if I get the job!!