Writing this from the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, we are waiting to board our flight to Aberdeen, Scotland, via the London Heathrow airport. I just had a “freak-out session” because I thought I had lost my camera. I rang the hotel, & the shuttle service, which cost me about AUD$30 of credit! ….

Morven: This is morven here waiting 4 our plane to scotland. It has been delayed and it looks very foggy outside so I wonder if we will be stuck in france!!there are worse places to be stuck!

… Now that I have regained control of my PDA, I shall continue my story. I found my camera in the bottom of my Crumpler bag underneath Morv’s hairdryer. Thank the holy Crumpler gods!! I always put my valuables in the zip-up compartment, but the camera got thrown in the main section this morning when the van to pick us up from the hotel arrived, and I realised I had packed our tickets in my densely packed, locked-up suitcase! Much rummaging around happened very quickly on the side-walk, and somewhere un that process my camera got thrown into my bag in a non-systematic fashion which “bit me in the arse”! Despite the Optus rip-off overseas phone call charges using up all my credit, I am feeling very relieved!

The day before yesterday (the 13th) after Versailles, we went to see the Moulin Rouge building. We didn’t actually go in (I hear tickets are expensive) but just checked out the building. We ate dinner just down the road, and I attempted speaking french to the waiter. However, for some reason he started speaking english as soon as I said bonjour! Morven found this quite amusing.

Whilst we were in the red light district of Paris, we visited the “Erotic Art Museum”. I had very little idea what would be in such a place, but it turned out to be a lot more tasteful than we expected. It was interesting to read about the history of brothels, pimps, and prostitutes in Paris, and how laws over time changed and evolved for and against it. I am very puzzled as to why someone, even if it was hundreds of years ago, would carve a wooden statue of some monkey type animal with a gigantic penis. Apparently this is art, but I want to know what really possesses someone to spend numerous days carving a gigantic monkey penisn out of wood!

Yesterday (Valentines Day) was the coldest day in Paris. We went to go to go walk through the Catacombs, but we got there a bit too early as it doesn’t open until 11am. Being 10:30am, we hung around until it was supposed to be open, but it never opened. Reading the sign in French more closely, we discovered the opening days of the week had changed since Morven’s Paris book had been published a few years ago. Not to worry, we (when I say “we” I mean Morven) then decided to seek the warmth and comfort of Paris retail. I tried looking for some french cosmetics for my mum that she requested, but had no luck. I should have looked up the cosmetics website to find out who actually stocks it. Morven was sad that she already had a full suitcase, and that in general we could hardly afford anything.

In the early afternoon we went back to the hotel to relax, wind down, and re-pack Morven’s more than 30kg suitcase since we have a 24kg limit with British Airways, and a 20kg limit with Singapore Airlines. Fortunately, by filling up my case and Crumpler bag with some of her items, we got hers down to 25.7. But, now my case weighs 23.7, and we still need both of our cases to be about 23kg or we risk excess baggage fees with Singapore Airlines. Fortunately we’re offloading gifts to her family, and combined with the clothing I brought which I’m prepared to throw away, we should be okay. I also introduced Morven to the art of filling up small voids with small clothing items, which means we don’t have to sit on her case to close it anymore!

Now I’m writing from Heathrow airport, flights running on time. I am wondering what to do about Morven’s hairdryer she got for Christmas from her lovely boyfriend, it has started to not work correctly since we got to Paris, and is currently pretty useless. Seems to me there is a problem with the electronics, and therefore may be a warranty job.

Before going to dinner at Hédiard, we exchanged Valentines gifts. I was lucky to receive Ben Sherman brand cuff-links with the UK flag and red buses suspended in a liquid! [Edit: This is where I then proposed, story of which is contained in a private blog post.] When we got to Hédiard, the waiter had a terribly apologetic look on his face as he explained how the gentleman that took our booking for 7pm made a mistake, as they don’t serve until 7:30pm. Unfortunately we were already going to be pushing it for time for our 8:15pm pickup to our Paris Illuminated Bus Tour & River Cruise, so we were shafted at the last minute to find somewhere else to eat. It was really annoying as we had already spent an hour on our way home that afternoon looking for a nice enough place that could feed us earlier, but everwhere nice was all booked. We ended up finding there was an Italian restaurant right next to our hotel which catered to our strict time requirements, and it was deliciously yummy so it worked out really well. It’s funny because this restaurant supplied the room service to our hotel, which is what we had that afternoon previously considered arranging instead to avoid rushing, but it was too late to organise when Hédiard cancelled on us so at the last minute. We were also disappointed that we gave them our phone number at their request when booking, yet it seems they didn’t attempt to contact us. Enough whinging!

We were lucky that we were the only ones doing the illuminated bus tour that night, so we had our own personal chauffer drive us around in a nicely heated van. Paris is definitely much more beautiful at night, as most of the famous buildings and monuments are lit up, creating a very eye-catching effect. The river cruise was spectacular. All these famous and historic buildings and bridges appear as you progress along the Seine, looking very majestic as they are also illuminated. The commentary on the bus and cruise was exceptionally good, and both Morven and I enjoyed the night very much. I am truly fascinated with the history of France. The only thing I don’t understand is for a city with so much history and experience, why do they all drive like insane loonatics, and pedetrians have suicidal missuons wuth the way they walk!

By the time this post us readable, I’ll be in Scotland.