Paris

When we were convinced we were heading home in May, we booked our holiday on the Eurostar to Paris, as we promised ourselves we wouldn’t go home without doing the Eiffel Tower. Blog regulars will note that when we were here last time in the middle of winter it was freezing, rainy and foggy. This was much better.

Hanging around in Montmarte we were spoilt for choice for fruit vendors. We just had to indulge in an extremely large punnet of strawberries that didn’t last half a block.

The Sacre Couer at Montmarte. Luckily the funicular was broken so Peg’s knee got a good workout heading up millions of steps and then down again. The view was worth it, though

And what a great view!

Close-up of the Sacre Couer. It was even more beautiful on the inside.

Our hotel was literally a hundred metres from the Moulin Rouge in a really interesting part of town.

Us doing the tourist thing on the open-top bus. It’s the most efficient way of seeing Paris with a knee injury and pick up a nice bit of sunburn at the same time.

A flower! Oh, and the Eiffel Tower.

Part of the Notre Dame entrance. Out the front of the Notre Dame is a point where all the distances from Paris are measured. Just to the East of this is where all the executions happened!

The Notre Dame

A different kind of Parisian chauffeur.

Guess where we are????? Much more sun this time, though.

On the Sunday we decided to spoil ourselves and do a luxury wine cruise with complimentary lunch. Maybe it was the other way around… Either way it was excellent and a beautiful way to spend a gorgeous sunny afternoon in Paris, on the Seine.

Quite happy after our delicious wine. I mean lunch.

Peg on the bus somewhere in Paris. Doesn’t matter where. It was all good. Rue something or other.

Drew was getting rather excited about doing the final lap of the Tour de France. Only on a bus. Peg had a hard time convincing Drew that this was a little too early to stake his claim on a spot to watch the last stage of the Tour.

The Eiffel Tower’s bum.

How many times do you get to go to Paris? We think only 3 times, so this time we thought we’d better celebrate in case it was the last. What better way to celebrate than with a bottle of French Champagne – Veuve Cliquot!

Little did Peg know, Drew had ulterior motives behind the champagne. On bended knee, under the Eiffel Tower, on a beautiful sunny day, Drew asked Peg to marry him.

She said no, of course. Quickly followed by an emphatic yes.

She was very happy that day. So happy in fact that, because we were pressed for time, it was no problem doing the 720 stairs up then back. With or without an ACL, she had an engagement ring that was a very good way of taking her mind off the pain! What pain??!

Try getting a photo without Peg’s new ring. Just like that damn London Eye and Venetian pigeons! In the background of the photo, under the tree, where the path forks, is where Drew asked Peg to marry him. Tres romantique!

The happy fiancé(e)s on top of the world! But physically on top of the Eiffel Tower.

The view from the top. By the way, did you know we’re engaged? Peg’s got a big sparkly rock on her finger. She’s rather happy about that.

Easter

High Tea at The Ritz with friends of the Luks’, Mike and Laura Sanders. They were having a whirlwind tour of Europe from the USA so they took us out to our local haunt.

The next day we did our own whirlwind tour of the British Midlands and Wales. First stop Stratford-upon-Avon. Drew wanted to see if Shakespeare was home. He was unsure whether to knock or not to knock. Sorry. We had to.

The lock at Stratford-upon-Avon.

A duck by any other name would poo as much.

If beer is the food of love, drink on!

Wherefore art Thou, London?

Ok, we left the bad Shakesperian references where they belong. We’re sorry and we’ve stopped. Welcome to Wales! Old North Wales, that is. Not the good version! There were some pretty sights, though.

Here’s a pretty sight! With Drew blocking the picture…

We needed a destination. What better place than Llanddewi Brefi! Little did we know before we got there, it’s not much of a destination. This is the only sign in the village! (Truly, this is the only sign. The others have been poached by Little Britain fans)

No, they weren’t both Drew’s ice creams. Although he wanted them to be. This is Aberaeron, somewhere south of Aberystwyth. A pretty little seaside town we stumbled across. There was a nice pub that we also stumbled upon then out of!

Looking towards Ireland.

The very tidal harbour of Aberaeron.

At high tide. The tide was the fastest moving thing in Aberaeron.

Drew, being an old man. Peg called Drew “Gerri” for the rest of the day after he admitted his desire to have a butchers at the canal lock and rail museum near Bath. Such a geriatric.

Peg, falling under the spell of the museum. Drew took photos here because Peg couldn’t find anything interesting enough to take photos of so we cited “artistic differences” and got back in the car.

You’ll recognise the Pousties from earlier episodes of the blog. An entirely bad influence on us, which our livers take the brunt of. We got sunburnt here, too. It was great. Yes, we remember fondly the 2 times we’ve been burnt in the last 9 months in contrast to the sickly pallor of our almost English skin.

Rod and Fo Poustie, lapping up the sunshine.

Nigel & Sue

We recently visited Drew’s relatives, Nigel and Sue, near Liverpool. Nigel is Drew’s Mum’s cousin and the son of Frances, who you may have seen in some of our first blog entries. We went to the Beatles’ home town of Liverpool but stopped short of doing a Beatles tour.

The harbour in Liverpool. This place really resembles Newcastle, Australia several years ago. Without the sunshine, beaches, weather, wineries. But the port is similar!

We wanted to do what Gerry and the Pacemakers did and take the Ferry ‘cross the Mersey…

…however it appeared Chris de Burgh had his way as someone Didn’t pay the Ferryman.

Nigel and Sue.

More of the port of Liverpool.

Albert dock, we think, in Liverpool. Lots of “boutique” (read: overpriced) bars, however very photogenic. Also the site where Peg bought a HILARIOUS t-shirt from the Beatles shop for her Mum, Judy: “Hey Jude”. Ha ha ha!!!

Peg's Night Shoot

For Peg’s birthday Drew gave her a top-of-the-range tripod and a voucher to do a night photography course. See below the fruits of the labour.

An Eye for an eye

Houses of Parliament from the other side of the Thames. Where all the big decisions take place. Like deciding who the next Bond will be and what the official bedtime is (there is no Big Dog over here).

Big Ben and a big bus.

Big Ben and a bigger bus!

The eyes have it

Try getting a photo of London without the Eye in it. Like Venice and those damn pigeons.

This eye is worse than Osiris!