Debrief

Well now been home nearly 48 hours and guess what? Still not sleeping that well. Could it be jet lag?
Must admit though the breakfast here is better, coffee not too bad either and as for the sex!!
Reflections on an overseas trip.
Solo Travel
Travelling solo I found quite difficult, especially in countries where English is not the first language.
Have an extra pair of eyes and ears makes finding your way, understanding signage and interpreting what you are being told much easier.
Also I found it quite lonely, especially in Saxony, where I think I went four days without talking to anyone, more than a few stumbling sentences.
Of course being solo means paying more for accommodation (single supplement) or having to share accommodation (dorms in YHA's)
I admire solo travelers who don't have a second language up their sleeve.
Group Travel
The group travel part worked, particularly as we had a small group with similar interests.
We saw lots of larger groups, bus loads of 35-40 who seemed to do a lot of milling around and waiting.
Our group of ten , with a small bus managed to get in and out of places with remarkable speed.
Our guide, Stephen, also got to know us, and we him, rather than just being another face in the crowd.
Some things didn't work that well however.
We had too many sit down lunches that consumed too much of the day. The consensus of the group was smaller snack lunches, finish earlier, allowing exploration of the town we were staying in, then a bigger meal at night.
Trains
The trains in Europe are very efficient. The long distance trains run to time, are fast and a quite economical way of getting around. You also get to see quite a lot of the countryside.
Europe is remarkable flat (well the bit I travelled over).
The Eurail Pass works well, though you need to pick you countries well. I included Austria in my pack, expecting to go there, and didn't.
Dresden
Half a day was just not enough to see an old city that's been rebuilt.
Munich
Great city, with English spoken most places.
Would recommend the English speaking walking tours, booked from the Tourist Info centre at the Central Station.
Especially good "The Nazi Party Origins plus Extension" walk
Brussels
Grey old city, but with a lot to offer. Do the Hop-on, Hop-off Bus thing to get an idea of what to see. Also good walking tours that start right in the centre at Grand Market. Saw some people doing a Segway tour, looked great fun and also bicycle tours. OR you can just walk.
Breugel YHA good value (terrible breakfast and sl noisy) and is quite central.
Paris
This city is a walkers dream. If you are staying  reasonably centrally you can walk anywhere (except perhaps Versailles unless you're keen).
I have been told, the way to see the gardens is get a golf buggy thing!
The metro works well and can get you where you don't want to walk.
Musts are Eiffel Tower, but go early, very early and climb to the second level, then use the lifts. Pick a clear day and the views are expansive.
There are museums all over the place, however all will cost you about $15 pp entry, unless you are there on the first Sunday of the month, then they're free. BUT then they're VERY crowed, go early.
My picks D'Orsay and Louvre.
I found the Pompidou Centre a bit boring.
Versailles was just too crowded and I think I lost the plot there. It was a Saturday too which may not have helped. Need a day there I suspect.
Get the audioguide at each place. Many don't have signage in English. Sit and listen, they are usually very good.
The Paris Tourist Information Centre is near L'Opera, not that easy to find. Go there and get them to book your tickets, as that puts you through the Entry with Tickets queue.
The other thing I would highly recommend are the Paris Walks. If I had found them earlier, I would have done two a day. Well presented, in English of course, some great guides and a way of whetting the appetite for more exploring.
http://www.paris-walks.com/
Another place to go is Montmartre where the views across the city are great.
The number of beggars, beggars belief! They are forever pushing something in you face to sign, shaking paper cups at you or trying the gold ring scam. Outside every museum, at every crossing of the Seine, at the railway stations, you just can't escape them.I found it easier just to wave them away with a terse "Non", but it optional. Some are fronts for the pick-pocket process, I was told.
The French haven't heard about the hazards of smoking and the streets are an ashtray. If you're asthmatic, take your puffers.
In fact, it seems much of Europe haven't got the smoking message.
In spite of their reputation, the Parisians mostly speak English. The more you try to speak French the more they will reply in English.
On our tour we had the Cultural Ambassador, whose approach was, if they didn't understand the first time, shout louder. Believe me, it doesn't work

D-day 36 Repatriation

I don’t know what it is about hotels, why are they so hot, or is it just in Europe. Too hot again and the doona arrangement does not allow for regulating by layering.  All in all another poor night’s sleep.
Nevertheless, surprisingly I survive in time to get breakfast and the shuttle to the airport.
The former was easy, the latter not without its excitement.
The shuttle was a large tourist bus with baggage stored underneath. As we were negotiating a roundabout exit there was the noise of baggage moving about, then someone noticed that the luggage door had strung open and the bus was spewing bags all over the grass verge. Luckily, for me at least, it was the bay with all the aircrew’s baggage. Surprisingly, once the baggage was retrieved, they thought it a great joke with giggles all round.
Even though I was characteristically, hours early, they were accepting check-ins, and after some hesitation about my carry-on (too heavy) I was given my pass, my passport examined, re-examined and finally stamped I passed border control.
I think you get tunnel vision when you travel, as I found myself with a cup of coffee with the Starbucks logo on it, without realising that’s where I had ended up. I had eschewed another vendor, saw a cinnamon spiral, thought that’s for me, and there I was with a Starbucks coffee and a cinnamon  spiral. The latter OK, the former up to the usual Starbucks standard (hot).
The flight seems to board early, though we wait in the plane some time. It fills slowly and turns out is only about half full. I am by myself and I can see at least 4 rows of 4 seats empty, and that’s just my section.
Room to stretch, pity I don’t want to sleep yet.
We land at Abu Dhabi, most modern airport, yet have to catch the bus to the terminal there is no sky bridge. It is suddenly VERY hot, 35C.
The airport is like any other, lots of people, lots of Duty Free, lots of announcements, lots of people running late for flights, and lots of Final calls.
Our flight is never called, or if it is I don’t hear it, and suddenly there is a rush to the gate.
Luckily, I have been invited up the front again, so I have a little private realm, well sort of, to my own.
“Champagne sir, or another sort of drink. Here’s the menu sir. All very nice.”
I break my rule of no alcohol on flights and have a good Australian Shiraz, bliss!
What I hope to be nice, is the flat bed for sleeping over much of the 14 hour flight.
I am sorely down, I really can’t sleep. Once again it’s either too hot or too cold, or my ankle aches, or something digs in, and so it goes on. Then the lady over my shoulder starts to snore.
In reality, I think I did sleep, though not as well as I had hoped.
I have breakfast, as we fly over the outback somewhere at about 2.30PM Sydney time and we land in time for tea tonight.
All very odd really, but that’s time zones for you
Finally, we head into Sydney, start the landing procedure, then at the last minute power on and around we go for another try. The Captain comes on and says something about weather conditions, though a passenger I spoke to later said we were too close to the water.
Either way we finally landed, bit the usual checks and here I am waiting for my plane to Adelaide.
Almost home

D-day 35 Brussels

The hostel room was noisy, right over the street, with traffic and reveller noise until the early hours. Sleep came intermittently between screeches of brakes, laughter, scream (not sure whether ecstasy or pain, or both).
I thought the breakfasts at Paris were bad, well the hostel was  really bad, crap selection, little choice of crap selection, terrible coffee and bad bread.
Belgium makes the most wonderful bread, way better than the bread in Paris, and the hostel serves up “Tip-Top type crap. Luckily it was free (well included in the bed price).

Packed up, placed my stuff in the locker and headed out.
One of the maps had a perimeter walk I could do that effectively started at the hostel.
First off down into the Marolles, rather like the Marais in Paris, rather seedy, however breaking out into a Place where vendors were setting up, to be kind, junk stalls. Some interesting rubbish all around.
On my way I passed a cartoon on a wall. I had learnt yesterday that the town had commissioned about 20 of these cartoon on blank walls throughout the city to cheer the place up.
Nothing cheers up Brussels, it is grey, grey and greyer.
Then past the last remaining medieval gate, Port de Hal, and then I got of course slightly and headed into the Louise area. Narrow cobbled streets, people of all hues hurrying to work, rather seedy in parts and the more I corrected my error, the seedier it became.
And then when all hope was lost, I popped out at the Palace Royal and met Leopold II.
He’s an interesting bloke, and if I got the story right, a man of few morals. His father Leo I was rather impoverished, and though he had great ideas for Belgium and Brussels was unable to fulfil them.
Then along comes Leo II, who has buckets of money, builds lavishly, spends a fortune, but where did the money come from?
Whilst most European countries took various colonies in Africa, the French the west, the Poms the east, the Dutch the south and Germany the left over’s, Belgium got the Congo. Only difference was Leo II and his cronies owned it as a private business concern and weren’t too fussed about exploiting everyone and everything. Part of the legacy was the debacle when they pulled out and they were part to blame for the Rwanda massacres too.
Enough history, on, ever onwards.
Following this walk I realised there was a pattern developing.
Every so often one of these wall cartoons would pop into view. I reread my map and find I am doing the Comic Strip Walk and that’s why there are so many pictures of cartoons.
BTW Tin Tin and the Smurfs are products of Belgium.
By this time I have walked about ¾ of the circumference of Brussels, passed through nine of Brussels, my feet hurt, and more importantly it’s starting to rain.
Coffee called for and consumed. It’s still raining, so a Museum is called for, and found. It’s not the most riveting, The Brussels Museum but when I emerge an hour or so later, the rain has stopped and it was time for beering and wenching!!
Well lunching anyway.
Had some of the famous Belgium pomme frittes. Just like our fried chips really. 
Then back to the hostel, retrieve my luggage and find my hotel, which is near the airport, to save a scramble tomorrow.
That means negotiating the local train service, that proves quite easy, what doesn’t is finding my hotel.
I am now out in the suburbs, the airport is 25 km from Brussels, my maps are no good.
It is dead reckoning again, however I wasn’t reckoning on the landmarks being excluded by huge corporate development.
This is the HQ of DHL, Ernst and Young, Canon and others for Europe and their buildings aren’t your average Santos building.
Anyway I finally find it, the smallest building in the area, Holiday Inn Express.
My last night!!
Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
Going home
To where it’s better
Than before (Leonard Cohen)
Picasa Web pictures

D-day 33 Paris to Brussels

Bug out day, pack up after six days in Paris and head to grey Brussels.
The bags pack quite easily so I am  wondering what I've lost.
I've stopped laundering, as I think I have enough clean stuff to get me through and arrive home smelling like a polecat.
BTW what do polecats smell like?
Drag my bags up to Gard de Nord, where I am too early, of course. Watch the passing parade, have a coffee, chat to a couple of Australian's who are off to Iepers and a driving trip around France, and then onto the train.
Find my voiture and seat, throw my bags up on the rack, get settled in, open the computer and think, better check my seat number. I am in seat 22, my ticket says I should be in seat 33, Crap.
Nonchalantly, try and make my move look routine. I think I am the only one who cares.
Settle beside another guy who is on his iPad the whole time, we don't speak.
Skype Sue for a while as were going along, the train has WiFi, but not quick enough for Skype to work that well. We give up.

Brussels arrives after only 90 minutes, it's 11.30AM.
My bloody phone can't log into Maps, so I can't get directions to the YHA.
The taxi driver I grab has no idea and finally drops me at Gare du Central, I got out at Gare du Midi, EU 15.00 later. Turns out he wasn't that far off track as the YHA is about 200 metres away, but I don't know that, and don't have a map.
I find the Grand Market, I've been there before, grab a map from the Tourism Place and get directions from them.
All is well, book in, get rid of my luggage and head back to the Grand market for a walking tour.
Oh no. not another walking tour. Fraid so.
This goes from 2.30 to nearly 6.00PM, given by an Argentinian, who is here virtue of a Hungarian mother.
He is very good, full of facts, has his own views and we actually do some walking too.
We get the history of Belgium, who started Brussels, and how it ended up a schizophrenic city, in
rather schizophrenic country, with the Flemish, the Dutch and the others all vying for superiority.
Truly multilingual, but luckily for the poor old tourist most, except taxi drivers, speak English.
Brussels is waffles and chocolate, I have yet to try either.
Maybe tomorrow as a parting gesture.
Now I find myself in the basement of the YHA having a vin rouge, with loud music and a smoker.
I must be desperate.
As the sign on the door says "If the music is too loud, then you are too old". I think they're right, though it's the smoke that's really going to get me to bail out.
Photos later.
Pictures from Picasa

D-day 32 Paris Ile de la Cite and Montmartre

Last night I was writing my blog and the prose was running free. I was on a roll and the words all seemed to fit beautifully. I had only had one wine, I should add.
Anyway, the computer was running slow, so I rebooted, and yes all the Pulitzer Prize stuff was gone.
So, my last blog was written with some frustration and some abbreviation. I will do better today.
A later start, have to Skype with Sue, so hang around, finally get out after 9.00AM.
I am doing another Paris Walk, Ile de la Cite and Notre Dame, and as it's not that far from the Pantheon, I get a look at that too.
The Pantheon is about 1500 metres further on the left bank of the Seine, past the Sorbonne.
I arrive at the meeting place for the Paris Walks with 40 minutes to spare, so off I head, past the Sorbonne, as I said and to the Pantheon.

No time to go in, already a line up. The Pantheon is notable as having one of those special triple domes and though originally a church the French Revolution put paid to all that, and it is now a mausoleum. Its necropolis contains such notables as Voltaire, Zola, Victor Hugo and Madame Curie.
Then backtrack, through the Sorbonne to Ile de la Cite to meet the group.
Mary Ellen, is a Parisian with an American accent, who doesn't quite have the gift the other guys had.
Nevertheless, we managed a good 2 hour stroll across and around the Ile de la Cite, with Notre Dame as our focal point.
Ile de la Cite was the site of the original encampment by the Parisii, a Celtic tribe, who used the island and the Seine. Then the Romans came, and it was they who gave Paris it's name, from the original tribe. I guess that's pretty obvious.
We heard about the original palace on the sight, abandoned when one of the kings died and his wife, one of the Medeci's was to distraught to live there any long, and moved across the river to the Louvre, before it became arty and crafty!!.
It's now the Palais de Justice, and has been extensively altered, with bits demolished etc.
Did you know that the concierge was originally "keeper of the candles" managing the supply of candles for nobles etc, and gradually became what they are today.
We found another bridge laden with padlocks and it seems that couple do as sign of everlasting love and devotion. Just wonder why some are combination locks! There was a newly married couple there today attaching their lock.
From there it was all uphill to get a look at Montmartre and the Sacre Coeur church that crowns the norther Parisian skyline.
Took just 40 minutes from the Seine to Montmartre though I was sweating by the time I got there. This place is humid.
Sacre Coeur is another church, Montmartre, however the surrounding suburb is just bounding with life, the square full of food outlets, budding artists showing their efforts for sale and the usual on the spot portraits, none of which looked like the sitter!!
There was also a Salvador Dali exhibition on, which was rather ho hum. I like Dali, but they had really nothing of his there, mostly pen sketches he had done on books for his manager.
Then the long downhill back to base, for the last time.
Past the Moulin Rouge, looking in need of some make-up, the rouge getting a little thin.
Then down past the Folie Bergere, which I find is literally round the corner from my hotel, which is near the corner of Rue de Bergere, and it is looking seriously in need of some love. In fact, apart from some new posters, it almost looks derelict.
Well that's Paris for you. I am sure there are things I should have done, the sewers, the catacombs, that cemetery where a whole lot of famous people are buried, along with some not so famous, BUT they're all dead.
More time at Versailles perhaps, yes certainly.
Tomorrow the fast train to Brussels and whilst on the train maybe some thoughts on Paris.
Picasa web albums

The Great War in a Nutshell

At the end of out Western Front Tour, our Guide Steve came up with this summary.I have just managed to get it from him.

Germany, Austria and Italy are standing together in the middle of a pub when Serbia bumps into Austria and spills Austria's pint.
Austria demands Serbia buy it a complete new suit because there are splashes on its trouser leg. Germany expresses its support for Austria's point of view.
Britain recommends that everyone calm down a bit.
Serbia points out that it can't afford a whole suit, but offers to pay for the cleaning of Austria's trousers.
Russia and Serbia look at Austria. Austria asks Serbia who it's looking at.
Russia suggests that Austria should leave its little brother alone.
Austria inquires as to whose army will assist Russia in compelling it to do so.
Germany appeals to Britain that France has been looking at it, and that this is sufficiently out of order that Britain should not intervene.
Britain replies that France can look at who it wants to, that Britain is looking at Germany too, and what is Germany going to do about it?
Germany tells Russia to stop looking at Austria, or Germany will render Russia incapable of such action.
Britain and France ask Germany whether it's looking at Belgium.
Turkey and Germany go off into a corner and whisper.
When they come back, Turkey makes a show of not looking at anyone.
Germany rolls up its sleeves, looks at France, and punches Belgium.
France and Britain punch Germany. Austria punches Russia.
Germany punches Britain and France with one hand and Russia with the other.
Russia throws a punch at Germany, but misses and nearly falls over.
Japan calls over from the other side of the room that it's on Britain's side, but stays there.
Italy surprises everyone by punching Austria.
Australia punches Turkey, and gets punched back. There are no hard feelings because Britain made Australia do it.
France gets thrown through a plate glass window, but gets back up and carries on fighting.
Russia gets thrown through another one, gets knocked out, suffers brain damage, and wakes up with a complete personality change.
Italy throws a punch at Austria and misses, but Austria falls over anyway. Italy raises both fists in the air and runs round the room chanting.
America waits till Germany is about to fall over from sustained punching from Britain and France, then walks over and smashes it with a bar stool, then pretends it won the fight all by itself.
By now all the chairs are broken and the big mirror over the bar is shattered.
Britain, France and America agree that Germany threw the first punch, so the whole thing is Germany's fault .
While Germany is still unconscious, they go through its pockets, steal its wallet, and buy drinks for all their friends.

D-day 31 Paris Louvre

Rained all night and it was rather cold, so slept well, temperature regulation not required. Bitten by something though. Probably scabies!
I wasn't looking forward to the walk to the Louvre in the rain and standing about.
Nevertheless, I headed off after the breakfast, if you could call it that.
It was overcast, thought not raining and I found my way to the Louvre easily, I have now done it a couple of times, with variations.

Today is free at all Paris museums, it is the first Sunday of the month, so I am early, 8.15AM for a 9.00AM opening, and I am 100 metres from the start. Within 30 minutes the queue is 300 metres long, and by the time we start to move it has snaked out of sight.
As soon as it opens and we are past security there is a rush for the Mona Lisa.
In spite of being in the first 100 or so, there seem to be people coming from every orifice of the building, so by the time I get there, the crowd is about 5-6 deep.
I must say I am not sure quite what the fuss is all about, though you are kept back some way.


I am sure her enigmatic smile is due the the two layers of glass that shield her from the seething masses.
She is bigger than I imagine, most people seem to think she is small.
After doing the obligatory Mona, cruise the various halls  bathing in the culture of it all.
The second favourite exhibit, is that lump of marble, know as the Venus de Milo.
Now there's a beauty for you, far outshines that old moaning Mona.
Probably a bit chunky for our modern tastes, she is quite divine.
In fact, I really like all the greco-roman sculpture, it has a certain something. It must be all that marble.
Nothing to do with the half naked bodies, I should hasten to add. I only look at them for the articles.
So four hours and many footsteps later I have negotiated much of the Louvre.
The Louvre is shaped like a flat topped letter A with long legs. It is on 4 levels yet not all the levels connect, so sometimes you back-track, or go up, then down a level to get from A to B.
It's easy to get bamboozled, as I did quite often.
The saving grace is the "Sortie" signs with a pyramid shape that designate the Pyramid that is the entry and exit point.
If in Paris the Louvre is a must. An audioguide is a must, yet don't expect to see all the famous paintings as many are not here, or in some cases, hard to find.
From the Louvre off the the marshes of Paris, or the Marais, as they are now known.
There we meet Chris, of Paris Walks. I say we, as by the time I get there about 20 others are waiting.
Initially, I am not sure that Chris will keep up yesterday's standard. How wrong I am. He is excellent, full of facts, anecdotes and some quite quirky humour, with some Monty Pythonesque features
The Marais is an area quite close to what was the Royal Palaces so quite a good place to be if seeking the kings favours.
Consequently, many fine houses or Hotel Particuleir (town houses) were built close by in the Marais. Some elements persist, one currently on the market for EU 31 million, as the Marais is now quite a well sought after area. It was also the Jewish quarter, and still is though gradually prices are forcing them out-from 17 down to 7 synagogues.
There is also the story of betrayal of the Jews of Paris by the Vichy French government in WW2 collaborating with the Gestapo, leading to 75,000 French Jews being sent to Auschwitz (3000 survived).
It is an area of narrow back streets and shops and restaurants, and is packed-it's Sunday.
Over two hours later it is time to head back to base, where I shower, and after some cogitation, I head out to the bar on the corner for tea.
It is here I get an education in French politics as the bar erupts in cheer when they hear that Sarkozy has been defeated by the socialist candidate Hollande.
Picasa web albums

D-day 30 Versailles and Paris

Up earlier than usual, as I have a half day trip booked to Versailles and I need to find my way to the start point.
Early chat to Sue on Skype, breakfast, miserable again, so stole more for lunch, then headed off.
It's one of those tours in a big bus with lots of people.

The trip to Versailles is pretty quick, via the Arc de Triomphe, and a short trip into the country.
The parking lot is filled with about 50 buses all our size.
We are given our instructions by our guide and then the crush starts.
Armed with an audioguide I set off with all the others, through the Royal Apartments, dressing rooms, chapels, ante rooms and pro rooms, rooms of all shapes and sizes even the Hall of Mirrors.
All negotiated through a teeming mass of hot bodies. Some of the larger rooms provide relief, as you can escape the humanity.

The opulence of the place is hard to imagine. None of my pictures do it justice. The only other places I have see like this are churches.

I am on a time limit, half day really means under 2 hours, so it's all a rush to get everything done.

What I don't realise is my ticket doesn't get me entry on the gardens. I have rushed through the Palace to get to the gardens, so I double back and have another go at the Palace.

The humanity is there still, of which I acknowledge am a contributor.

Then it's back on the bus and back to Paris.

All in all a rather unsatisfying experience. I feel cheated, yet it's  my own fault. I had intended a whole day, and for some reason didn't.

Word to the wise-Versailles needs a whole day and include the Gardens. The audioguide is excellent, yet you need time to stop at each point, get the full commentary.

As for the gardens, I imagine they're great, just wish I'd seen more than just from the Palace.

So here I am, back in Paris feeling slightly cheated, so what to do?
How about lunch on the Ile de le Cite. And that's what I do via Pont Desarts and Pont Neuf.

I have decided to do a city walk and the meeting time is 2.30PM so I have some time to kill, wander around Les Halles, have a coffee and meet the guide.

The Paris Walks have been going 30 years, and we are lucky enough to have Peter Caine, the originator, as a guide.

What in interesting 2 hours it was as we wandered around the part of the city that was the markets. Les Halles literally means the Halls, which housed the markets for over 800 years. They have now moved out of the city, in 1969, however some of the old medieval parts are still there if you know where to look. And he did?

Did you know that there is a separate butcher for pork, the charcutire and that they use EVERY part of the beast. The normal butcher is the boucher, and they deal with everything else.
Why the English are known by the French as Rostbif?
Why stick up two fingers to be rude? How the finding that the cork tree provided an effective seal for bottles would impact on the ability to collect taxes and more!!
Best EU12 I have spent. I was so impressed I bought the company!! Seriously though, I plan to do a couple more before I head out.
If you're in Paris and have time, this one at least was great.
It's now 4.30PM and time to head back to base, via a beer.
As evening falls, so does the rain starts, it is getting heavier and heavier. I think I'll have tea in tonight.
Tomorrow, probably more T and B, it's the Louvre.
Picasa Album pictures

D-day 29 Paris

Another good night's sleep, solving the HOT problem by urging the doona to live only on one side of its bag.
Day overcast, as predicted. Breakfast crappy again, stole more food and after Skyping badly with Sue, off.
Today it's the Arc de Triomphe, and it's quite a walk, about 5 km. The walk is pleasant, the boulevards are open and to start, even tho I am late, the foot traffic not too bad.
The Arc hoves into sight and I have to work how to get to it.
Pedestrians don't try to cross the Arc de Triomphe roundabout. Eventually I find the underpass.
In fact hire cars aren't insured for damage on the RHS of the vehicle, if the accident occurs at the Arc roundabout!
Find the underpass and join the ubiquitous queue to get tickets to climb the Arc.
It's not too long, and soon I am round and round up the spiral staircase and at the top.

Whilst not quite as expansive as the Eiffel, the Arc certainly gives you the feel of how Paris laid out with radiating spokes of Avenues, with the main one, the Champs Elycees, connecting the Arc to the Place de la Concorde and right down to the Tuileries and the Louvre.
Back the other way the Avenue des Grand Armees extends to the "new" Grand Arch and the Defence Departments.
The bas relief are, in the usual style excellent, and hard to capture in pixels. They certainly went in for Roman allegory, and more tits and bums.
From the Arc it's down the Champs.
There seems to be a rash of lost gold rings in Paris. Four times now I have been walking, minding my own business, when someone coming the other way bends over and produces a gold ring, that they have just found off the footpath. The first one had me, I must confess, and I congratulated them on their luck, then I realised a con was in progress. Just out of the hotel, it happened this morning, she wasn't very good and neither was the guy on the Champs. I have learned to just wave them away with a Gallic "non". Next will be a polite Australian "Fuck off" but I haven't had to resort to that yet.
I hit the Grand and Petite Palais, there's nothing on that appeals, so I circuit round the Place de la Concorde the site of the guillotine during the French Revolution. In the centre is the Luxor Obelisk, that used to guard Ramses II tomb at Luxor (plagiarised from Wikipedia).
The Madeleine Church was just a hop away, so that duly inspected, I had lunch, watching all the devout come and go, double cross themselves as they left, and studiously avoid the beggar at the gates to the church.
The one thing Paris doesn't do well is have information booths, or offices, you know, the big blue "i" sign. I finally found one and sat there some time, sparing my feet, and booked a tour of Versailles. I have been told, miss the Moulin Rouge, it's only tits and bums, but don't miss Versailles.
As I've had quite a surfeit of T&B, the palace got the nod. Tomorrow.
It's still just after 1.00PM, too early to head home, so what to do, what to do?
I see a sign "George Pompidou Centre" so off I head.
The centre houses mostly modern and contemporary art,much of it by quite famoous artists like Dali, Picasso, the Cubists, but none from Fidel Castro, Dadaists and early Surrealists.
There is a Matisse exhibition on "Pairs and Series" that seem to be all the paintings Matisse did two of. Again leaving me quite unsatisfied.
Alas no Courbet!
Must confess, much of it left me rather unimpressed, however the Art Spiegelman Co-Mix was rather fun. Art is a cartoonist, probably best known for cartoons he did for Mad magazine and Playboy. That was more to my liking.
I headed home, albeit the hotel, via Rue St Denis and others, overshooting my target, yet making it to my eating place for a beer.
Greeted with a hand shake was a nice touch, so I head back there for tea after a shower etc.
It's still a solitary life and I'm rather pleased it's coming to an end.
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D-day 28 Paris

Slept well in my double bed-alone!!This hotel is too hot like the previous one.
Unable to keep the window open as it rained overnight, however dawn bought blue skies.
Breakfast is a travesty for EU 17 so I pinch as much as I can for lunch, which isn't much.
Sue isn't home from work so we can't Skype, bugger.
Today is to be the Louvre, so I head off before 8 AM, then decide that I want to get to Rodin's Garden, and I should have gone yesterday, as it's almost back to my previous hotel and I'll follow that up with Musee D'Orsay.
The Louvre is very quiet at 8.50AM, the line is just forming, so I motor on across the Seine, past the D'Orsay, where the lines are small too, past the Musee de Legion of Honour, past the National Assembly (says he name dropping furiously) and find myself at Rodin's Garden  and museum, 45 minutes to spare.
On the way I come across what must the the longest and most dangerous extension lead ever. My picture shows less than a quarter of it snaking across the street TWICE, along the footpath and around the corner. Talk about OH&S.
Walk around to the Hotel des Invalides, the old hospital for the poor, now the military museum, it's not open either, and I'm done with military for the moment.
The queue at Rodin's Garden is small still, so I join it, soon after it's 100 metres long.

Rodin's Garden is a delight, I think, however I am disappointed as apart from the Thinker in residence, the Kiss is not.
He was one prolific sculptor. The bronze wall is just fabulous and the picture really won't show just how intricate it is. He was certainly into buttocks, boobs and peni! But more on those later.
I head back to D'Orsay and the queue is 300 metres long-bugger!! I join it and decide I will bail out after 15 minutes, but it splutters forward at sufficient speed I stay with it. They are a great place to people watch.
We kept pace with a class of students from Italy. Each little subgroup had one person who was the Alpha, often a girl, and of course often the prettiest, certainly the loudest, who held most of the conversation. I watched another Italian on the phone. It is an expressive language, even if the other person couldn't see the hand and arm movements.
Where was I? Yes, D'Orsay.
I surrendered my bag, and into the vast museum, formally the main station of Paris, Gard D'Orsay.
A Degas exhibition was on "Le Nu". I didn't know that meant nude, and there was more of breasts and buttocks. Looking at his pictures it would be easy to think that all everyone did, well at least the women, was bathe, as that's what they were doing in just about every study. Clean lot!.
The main hall is filled with statuary, more breasts and buttocks, though mostly in marble.
The impressionists were on the top floor, the post impressionists at the Bureau de Poste, just kidding.
It was a smorgasbord of the who's who of art. Degas, of course, he's the nudey guy, Van Gogh, Gaugin, Manet, Monet, Cezanne, Renoir and not just their doodlings either, the good stuff.
Fouth floor was art nouveau, as was third and second.
The ground floor had the Degas Nudes Exhibition (packed) and an interesting gallery of a bloke called Courbet with one picture listed on their plan particularly-"L'Origine du Monde". Talk about breasts and buttocks and other bibs and bobs. Google it, though I warn you, MA 15+.
Oh and you are not allowed to take pictures in the museum.
Suddenly it was past 2PM, I hadn't had lunch, and I'd been walking nearly 3 hours.
My lunch was in my surrendered bag, so to eat I must exit. I was done so I exited and headed across the Seine to have my meagre lunch in full sunlight-what a day.
I meander around the Tuileries, along to the Place de la Concord, where there must be at least 50 tourist buses. Talk about spoil a view and a photo. I can see the Arc de Triomphe way up the Champs Elycees, my target tomorrow I think.
I head back through the Tuileries to the Louvre, as it's on may way home. The line is quite small, however my feet are done.
Anyway, it's free on the first Sunday of every  month, and guess what next Sunday is?
So I head back to base, via a beer, grab my clothes dirty and have an exciting hour or so at they laundry, hopefully for the last time.
I've found a nice place to eat nearby, with a chirpy maitre de, so I go back there and indulge in some "pates de la moment", which turns out to be linguine. That and vin rouge and I am a happy man.
Well I do miss company (see reference to Skype above)
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D-day 27 Paris

We are all ready to break hotel windows, the rooms are so hot. None of us slept that well, as we were unable to get our thermostats in sync with the hotels.
Walter and I left our window open so we fared reasonable well.
Breakfast was rather sad, the last meal together, though we had to fight for it. The hotel wasn't going to give it too us, however were unable to repel our blitzkrieg of the front desk. We learn something this trip.
Our farewells done, I headed off to do battle with the Eiffel Tower, or more precisely the crowds.
I was later than intended and the queues were already over 100 metres for the lift ascent. The stair ascent, albeit to the second level was much shorter.
The obligatory handing over of money, bag inspection, scanning it was up and up and up, yet apart from my usual sweating, not as hard as I thought. I think the crowds pace was slower than I am used to. It's interesting looking at the wear marks on the steps and clearly more people climb than decent, however it may also be due to the heavier tread of an ascent.
Then the lift to the top and some simply great views of Paris, though somewhat tempered by the dull day. Our good weather has deserted us already.
I spent about 90 minutes on the Tower, the top and the lower levels. It is a must, but get there early, and be prepared to wait.
Off across the Seine to the Chaillot Palace which houses a number of things including the Marine Museum, which I trotted into.

Lots of great models, all to do with the French Navy and various maritime achievements. Good value for EU7.
It was then time to get my gear from my hotel, where I had left it and get to my new abode in Lafayette, using the Hop on Hop off buses.
Found my hotel quite easily, however they didn't have my booking. "This is Mercure Lafayette? " I enquire. "No, this is Mercure something else, Lafayette is around the corner". Oh crap.
So here I am back in the garret of this funny hotel, sixth floor, with the slowest lift ever.
Lafayette is a district of narrow roads and lanes with many restaurants and cafes. Pity I have to eat on my own.
I then ventured out to Gare du Nor to get my train ticket to Brussels, so now I'm set.
A nice meal at La Marguerite and here I am writing my blog.
Tomorrow, well if it's raining, The Louvre (100% chance of rain), if not Arc de Triomphe and Champs Elysees, I think.

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D-day 26 Normandy-Paris

Walter goes wild on the last night at Normandy
Another good nights sleep, and woke to sunshine, which persisted all day!!
It's big out day and the finish of the war stuff and time for a bit of kulcher.
Paris.
It's May Day so protests and a holiday.
Paris is bathed in sunshine and there are hoards everywhere. The line up for the Eiffel Tower is five columns snaking for hundreds of metres.
We have no rooms at the hotel, they messed up so we have to wait until they find some, then clean them.
We head off to do the Hop on Hop Off experience and I decide to get a 2 day ticket as I am here for 6 days now.
My plans to go elsewhere have been thwarted partly by poor planning on my part ad partly as the weather forecast for later in the week is bad. I can bide my time in the Louvre or of Notre Dame or somewhere.
I have no pictures for today. The bottom of a double decker is not the ideal place for pictures and as I am going to most of the sites we passed, I hope to get better ones then.
We get back and find our room ready, however we have a double bed.
Walter and I have become quite close but not that close.
It takes an age for house keeping to come and separate the beds and re linen them.
I plan on walking my but off. I need to, we have been having 3 course lunches and then followed up with dinner AND little exercise.
My new hotel is 6 km away, so I have a bit of a walk tomorrow to get there at least.
Also breakfast is so expensive, I will do what I did in Germany and make it lunch too.
We have our final dinner together and will see each other a breakfast.
Walter goes off to London, Paula and Brian, from Albury, go off to Ireland and Neil and Alan, from Queensland, head off to Cracov in Poland.
They've been good company and we have had some laughs and good natured teasing and will miss each other.
Tomorrow the Tower early so I miss the crowd. and some pictures

D-day 25 Normandy

Hard to believe yet I woke after a reasonable night's sleep and the sky was blue and the sun shining.
Today, Omaha Beach.
First off the American Cemetery at Omaha , overlooking the beach, rows upon rows of white crossed with the occasional Star of David interspersed..
The Niland brothers lie side by side, with grass in front heavily trodden. They were the brothers whose death and story inspired "Finding Private Ryan".
There was also Theodore Roosevelt, son of Teddy, I think who died of a heart attack and won the Medal of Honour!!

From a cemetery to a church at Saint Mere Englise where a US Airborne became suspended on the church bell tower. He is still there in effigy, however, never let the truth get in the way of a good tourism opportunity, he is now on the corner overlooking the square, not the one over looking the fields
They also had a great museum with a glider and C37 (DC3) with a very good collection of uniforms and equipment.
From there to the varius causeways the US Airborne needed to capture to deny German reinforcements getting to the Cherbourg Peninsular.
We finished with the battery at Point Du Hoc, made famous in "The Longest day" involving the US Rangers climbing the cliffs to get to the guns.
They are a pretty impressive piece of German slave labour construction, that were unable to withstand the might of off shore bombardment and airborn assault both by bombing and direct attack. The bomb craters are still very much in evidence.
By this time it had started to rain, again.
Back to the hotel and the end of this part of the trip.
Now to Paris
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