We run for kilometres, walk for miles, climb our little legs off, but nothing, NOTHING makes our feet and legs ache more than walking around cities! Still, it’s a sacrifice worth making to spend a long weekend in Paris. April in Paris, they should write a song about it.
Our welcome to the City of Lurve was warm. The waiter at the airport café, where we had out second breakfast and first proper patisserie for some time, was warm and friendly. I chatted away to him about not very much, he glanced at Noel who was watching on.
Il ecoute bien mais il ne parle pas! (He listens well but doesn’t speak)
Oui, I said – comme tous les maris (Yes, like all husbands)
We laughed, Noel joined in.
We headed off to the Sacre Coeur where we tackled the 300 steps up the dome, then all the way down again… ooo, I'm a martyr to my feet!