An Adventure in Paris

"....it is the courage to continue that counts." - Winston Churchill

Back in September we took a trip to Paris. Life got in the way of documenting our travels and before we knew it terror had ripped through the streets of the City of Lights. Suddenly posting about our time there felt ill-timed and distasteful. Time has passed and reflections have been made, and I have decided that posting about the wonderful city was never going to be bad taste. It is a city of courage, beauty and most importantly defiance to continue. 

The weeks before our trip was spent planning our time there but that all got washed away as soon as we touched down at CDG airport, literally. The word "rain" does not do justice to the deluge that we were subjected to. All was quickly forgiven once we got to our hotel, the Hotel Val Girard. It is small but perfectly formed and had the finest cherry on the cake: a balcony with a view.

 

The first day passed full of rain, multiple changes of damp clothes and a lot of walking. With patience well and truly tested we ended the rather damp day with a Il Floaton before heading back to the hotel to take in the view.

The next morning the sun rose gently nudging at our curtains until we woke. Laying still we listened for the sound of rain, whispered "is it raining?" to one another before reaching for the curtain with trepidation. What stood before us was a rain free window pane, with a sigh of relief but a wayward glance at the threatening skies we grabbed our brolly and headed for the Musee d'Orsay.

And with the skies relenting to the rain once more we spent the day hidden away with Van Gogh and Monet as company. Van Gogh is easily one of my favourite artists and much to Mr M’s bemusement I got lost in his works and lost all sense of time…..

Turns out it was time for a sit down. We left the museum and set off in search for a café. It didn’t take us too long to stumble across this one…

This café sat on a quiet little square and looked all too familiar. It took a while but eventually it dawned on me that it was the café that Elise Clifton-Ward sits in at the beginning of The Tourist (a firm favourite of mine). We pulled up a seat, ordered some food, and whiled away the time chatting and wondering if our butts were gracing the same chair that Angelina's did.