The Paris apartment is on the Il de Saint Louis. It is right in the middle of Paris and I have it all to myself. I don't dream about anything this good.
I'm very slow to get out of the apartment in the mornings.
Its around five degrees outside, dark and the doona weighs about five kilos, so its not only hard, but cruel to ask my delicate toes to touch the terra-cotta floor. I push through but then can't get out of the shower because I've set the temperature to 38 degrees and it's toasty toasty! Also, I have about two items of clothing, so it takes me an age to put together an ensemble that's a little different from what I wore the day before.
I did buy a fabulous orange mini skirt in San Sebastian but I have no top to wear with it. I have this constantly on my mind.
Meanwhile, its 11am and I'm still in the apartment, just having a toasted baguette with rhubarb jam and a little cafe next to the little balcony with little potted plants.
Map, camera, euros, key, lip balm, key, sunglasses, key, key, key... et voila!
First time out into the streets of Paris!
So the plan is just to walk about without a plan because I'm too excited to make one. I will not look at the map. I will not hunt down the gothic, ancient, roman, romantic or otherwise. I will just walk.
Huge church. Very big. Map. Notre Dame. Patisserie, Seine, brasserie, beret, huge building, map. The Louvre. Seine, cheap street art, bar, brasserie, bike, bike, beret, chocolates, I heart Paris, cafe, cafe... (do people mind sitting that close together? And when you're done, how do you get out? Do you order at the table, or do you go in and ask? If you don't pronounce consonants at the ends of words, why does it matter what consonant goes there? I didn't think it would be this cold here and these shoes are completely wrong. These are the shoes that gave me the sore back in Barcelona! What was I thinking?)
It's a bit late in the day to start queuing up now for a peek, so I go to sus out the ticket thing with the lady at information.
'The queue at the North lift has 500 people in it. The queues at the West, East and South tower have eight people in them. Is the North lift the only one that goes to the summit?'
'Non. Sey all go to se top.'
I look at the 500 people at the North lift and then the eight people at all the other lifts.
'So what's the difference? Why are all the people queued up at that one for hours when they could just walk straight up the other one?'
'I don't know.'
'Do you think that's a bit weird that they would do that then? If there's no difference between the lifts? Why are they doing that?'
'Because sey are like sheep.'
I agreed with her and made a plan to come back the next morning before the sheep arrived.
The sun dropped and it immediately became freezing. It smelt cold. It smelt like snow. All I could think about were my ice cube toes and the apartment.. sitting on the comfy couch, in front of the toasty heater, eating fresh baguette with stinky cheese and a glass of Bordeaux vino and watching a movie and then rolling under the 5kg doona for the deepest of sleeps.
So I did that.
It was the best of plans because the next day the city swallowed me up.