Yes, I see the lighthouse, what’s it doing all the way out there? The thing is, these places are sometimes so remote, I start thinking I should rent one for 6 months and then, without any distractions, I’ll get the blasted book finished.
Until there’s a shipwreck, of course!
Light is of course light, duh. Turn on the switch and let there be light.
Hang on, didn’t someone else say that, millennia ago? Someone famous? It’s on the tip of my tongue.
No! It’s not cyanide…
So, whilst we need it to see everything, it has another meaning…
My, that’s a light load your carrying today, which means not very heavy.
Or, that’s a light-coloured jumper, which means pale.
Oh, and did you light the fire?
And, after you light the fire, do you light out to a safe haven in light traffic because really it was arson, and you got a light sentence the last time enabling you to do it again.
If you are trying to rob someone, then it was a kilo light.
And after a long hard struggle, did you light upon the correct answer?
This is not to be confused with another similar word, lite.
It seems this is only used for describing low-calorie drinks and food, such as lite beer, which seems to me to be a lazy way of not using light
Still, there’s not much other use of the word except as a suffix -lite, but then you’d have to mention -lyte as well.
The message here – just use the damn word light and be done with it.
Whilst a rather important place for the French, for us visitors, it has a convenient hotel located just behind the square, and an underground, or Metro station, underneath.
Added to that was equally convenient cafes, one of which, The Cafe Republique, we had dinner every night. The service and food were excellent, and we had no problems with the language barriers.
At the top of the monument is a bronze statue of Marianne, said to be the personification of France.
Surrounding Marianne is three more statues, representing liberty, equality, and fraternity.
At the base is a lion guarding what is said to be a ballot box.
I’m not a night person and even less so a pub person, except perhaps for a Sunday lunch, for what is usually an incomparable steak.
But tonight is different.
We’re meeting people who have come up from Melbourne for a wedding, people we haven’t seen for a long time.
I’m not a conversationalist, so I leave them to it, and go on a character hunt.
And the pickings are rich.
My first victim, If she could be called that, is the one I call the lady in the red dress.
She’s on the other side of 40, with a sort of earthy attractiveness about her. The first thing to notice, for her age, the dress is too short. Maybe that’s the fashion and I’m just an old fogey, but it does say something.
She’s definitely single, or perhaps a player, certainly a flirt. She holds the stage, and talks with her hands, and those around her are captivated.
The untidy hair loosely collected in a hair tie tells me she carries a sort of messy but not messy look, and I wonder at the state of her residence. It’s a leap I know, but small signs indicate bigger things.
I’ve counted two glasses of beer in an hour and a half, so she is sensible, aware of her surroundings, and of the three men she has spent her time with, it’s hard to pick a winner. It’s not hard to captivate a loser.
Next comes the party girls three 20 somethings dressed to be noticed, and overly animated and screams look at us.
Oops, they just parked themselves nearby with the very expensive and exotic-looking matching cocktails. There’s the obligatory selfie together, and then a casual look around to see what’s on offer.
I don’t think there’s a lot, but my standards and their standards are most likely miles apart.
Hang on, news flash, they’re a part of another group nearby, several older office workers who could be the so-called chaperones, or just having a quiet drink before having to go home to any of, a family, a car, an empty flat, or blessed relief the week is finally over.
Next door to us is a family group, the kids are teens, and I’m wondering if the boys are boyfriends. The mother is an older, very attractive version of the daughter.
Perhaps it’s an experience for the girls because I don’t see a man who could act as a husband unless it’s the second time around with a younger version.
Why not. Men do it, why can’t women. But out on the town with your teenage children?
The bar’s entertainment … a single guy playing the guitar, along with backing music that makes him sound better, but people seem to agree that it’s good but not brilliant.
He’s singing covers, which may have made him just so so, perhaps if he sang his own material it might take him to the next level.
But, who cares, no one seems to be listening, the noise level of what seems like a thousand concurrent conversations drowning out any appreciation.
Of course, it’s headache-inducing because he has the volume so high, just to get over the ambient noise, and in doing so, it takes away the intrinsic musicality of it all, and it’s just more noise to contend with.
I suppose it’s better than canned music.
OK, news flash, the red dress had moved down the table and settled on a prospect, about 15 years younger. Her animation has intensified, and yes, there’s the casual brushing against him, like a cat marking its territory.
The night is young, and it’s looking good. I’m not going to pretend I have given a passing thought to spending a few minutes with her, for character creation purposes only.
And yes, we now have a sing-along. At half-past eight, it’s a bit early for the crowd to be too exuberant.
A squeal shatters the, well, not silence, and is one of the groups pretending like someone had dripped ice down the back of a dress that has no back, the next phase of attention-getting.
And, attention directed their way, they do a little dance, skol the drinks, and with all eyes on them, head to the bar for round two, or is that three. Several others join them, but they don’t need to do the dance. The lack of clothes more than makes up for the squeals.
If these are the modern mating rituals a lot has changed in the last 50 years. Or perhaps not, I’m just too old to remember.
Whilst a rather important place for the French, for us visitors, it has a convenient hotel located just behind the square, and an underground, or Metro station, underneath.
Added to that was equally convenient cafes, one of which, The Cafe Republique, we had dinner every night. The service and food were excellent, and we had no problems with the language barriers.
At the top of the monument is a bronze statue of Marianne, said to be the personification of France.
Surrounding Marianne is three more statues, representing liberty, equality, and fraternity.
At the base is a lion guarding what is said to be a ballot box.
I’m not a night person and even less so a pub person, except perhaps for a Sunday lunch, for what is usually an incomparable steak.
But tonight is different.
We’re meeting people who have come up from Melbourne for a wedding, people we haven’t seen for a long time.
I’m not a conversationalist, so I leave them to it, and go on a character hunt.
And the pickings are rich.
My first victim, If she could be called that, is the one I call the lady in the red dress.
She’s on the other side of 40, with a sort of earthy attractiveness about her. The first thing to notice, for her age, the dress is too short. Maybe that’s the fashion and I’m just an old fogey, but it does say something.
She’s definitely single, or perhaps a player, certainly a flirt. She holds the stage, and talks with her hands, and those around her are captivated.
The untidy hair loosely collected in a hair tie tells me she carries a sort of messy but not messy look, and I wonder at the state of her residence. It’s a leap I know, but small signs indicate bigger things.
I’ve counted two glasses of beer in an hour and a half, so she is sensible, aware of her surroundings, and of the three men she has spent her time with, it’s hard to pick a winner. It’s not hard to captivate a loser.
Next comes the party girls three 20 somethings dressed to be noticed, and overly animated and screams look at us.
Oops, they just parked themselves nearby with the very expensive and exotic-looking matching cocktails. There’s the obligatory selfie together, and then a casual look around to see what’s on offer.
I don’t think there’s a lot, but my standards and their standards are most likely miles apart.
Hang on, news flash, they’re a part of another group nearby, several older office workers who could be the so-called chaperones, or just having a quiet drink before having to go home to any of, a family, a car, an empty flat, or blessed relief the week is finally over.
Next door to us is a family group, the kids are teens, and I’m wondering if the boys are boyfriends. The mother is an older, very attractive version of the daughter.
Perhaps it’s an experience for the girls because I don’t see a man who could act as a husband unless it’s the second time around with a younger version.
Why not. Men do it, why can’t women. But out on the town with your teenage children?
The bar’s entertainment … a single guy playing the guitar, along with backing music that makes him sound better, but people seem to agree that it’s good but not brilliant.
He’s singing covers, which may have made him just so so, perhaps if he sang his own material it might take him to the next level.
But, who cares, no one seems to be listening, the noise level of what seems like a thousand concurrent conversations drowning out any appreciation.
Of course, it’s headache-inducing because he has the volume so high, just to get over the ambient noise, and in doing so, it takes away the intrinsic musicality of it all, and it’s just more noise to contend with.
I suppose it’s better than canned music.
OK, news flash, the red dress had moved down the table and settled on a prospect, about 15 years younger. Her animation has intensified, and yes, there’s the casual brushing against him, like a cat marking its territory.
The night is young, and it’s looking good. I’m not going to pretend I have given a passing thought to spending a few minutes with her, for character creation purposes only.
And yes, we now have a sing-along. At half-past eight, it’s a bit early for the crowd to be too exuberant.
A squeal shatters the, well, not silence, and is one of the groups pretending like someone had dripped ice down the back of a dress that has no back, the next phase of attention-getting.
And, attention directed their way, they do a little dance, skol the drinks, and with all eyes on them, head to the bar for round two, or is that three. Several others join them, but they don’t need to do the dance. The lack of clothes more than makes up for the squeals.
If these are the modern mating rituals a lot has changed in the last 50 years. Or perhaps not, I’m just too old to remember.
Yes, I see the lighthouse, what’s it doing all the way out there? The thing is, these places are sometimes so remote, I start thinking I should rent one for 6 months and then, without any distractions, I’ll get the blasted book finished.
Until there’s a shipwreck, of course!
Light is of course light, duh. Turn on the switch and let there be light.
Hang on, didn’t someone else say that, millennia ago? Someone famous? It’s on the tip of my tongue.
No! It’s not cyanide…
So, whilst we need it to see everything, it has another meaning…
My, that’s a light load your carrying today, which means not very heavy.
Or, that’s a light-coloured jumper, which means pale.
Oh, and did you light the fire?
And, after you light the fire, do you light out to a safe haven in light traffic because really it was arson, and you got a light sentence the last time enabling you to do it again.
If you are trying to rob someone, then it was a kilo light.
And after a long hard struggle, did you light upon the correct answer?
This is not to be confused with another similar word, lite.
It seems this is only used for describing low-calorie drinks and food, such as lite beer, which seems to me to be a lazy way of not using light
Still, there’s not much other use of the word except as a suffix -lite, but then you’d have to mention -lyte as well.
The message here – just use the damn word light and be done with it.
We have been to Paris a number of times over the years.
The last time we visited Paris we brought the two eldest grandchildren. We took the Eurostar train from St Pancras station direct to Disneyland, then took the free bus from the station to the hotel. The train station was directly outside Disneyland.
We stayed at the Dream Castle Hotel, rather than Disneyland itself as it was a cheaper option and we had a family room that was quite large and breakfast was included every morning. Then it was a matter of getting the free bus to Disneyland.
We spent three days, time which seem to pass far too quickly, and we didn’t get to see everything. They did, however, find the time to buy two princess dresses, and then spent the rest of the time playing dress-ups whenever they could.
In Paris, we stayed at the Crown Plaza at Republique Square.
We took the children to the Eiffel Tower where the fries, and the carousel at the bottom of the tower, seemed to be more memorable than the tower itself. The day we visited, the third level was closed. The day was cold and windy so that probably accounted for the less than memorable visit. To give you some idea of conditions, it was the shortest queue to get in I’ve ever seen.
We traveled on the Metro where it was pointed out to me that the trains actually ran on rubber tires, something I had not noticed before. It was a first for both children to travel on a double-decker train.
The same day, we went to the Louvre.
Here, it was cold, wet and windy while we waited, Once inside we took the girls to the Mona Lisa, and after a walk up and down a considerable numkber of stairs, one said, “and we walked all this way to see this small painting”.
It quickly became obvious their idea of paintings were the much larger ones hanging in other galleries.
We also took them to the Arc de Triomphe.
We passed, and for some reason had to go into, the Disney shop, which I’m still wondering why after spending a small fortune at Disneyland itself.
Next on the tour list was the Opera House.
where one of the children thought she saw the ghost and refused to travel in one of the elevators. At least it was quite amazing inside with the marble, staircases, and paintings on the roof.
Sadly, I don’t think they were all that interested in architecture, but at the Opera House, they did actually get to see some ballet stars from the Russian Bolshoi ballet company practicing. As we were leaving the next day we could not go and see a performance.
Last but not least was Notre Dame with its gargoyles and imp[osing architecture.
All in all, traveling with children and experiencing Paris through their eyes made it a more memorable experience.
The first we visited Paris was at the end of a whirlwind bus tour, seven countries in seven days or something like that. It was a relief to get to Paris and stay two nights if only to catch our breath.
I remember three events from that tour, the visit to the Eiffel Tower, the tour of the night lights, not that we were able to take much in from the inside of the bus, and the farewell dinner in one of the tour guides specially selected restaurants. The food and atmosphere were incredible. It was also notable for introducing us to a crepe restaurant in Montmartre, another of the tour guide’s favorite places.
On that trip to Paris, we also spent an afternoon exploring the Palace of Versailles.
The next time we visited Paris we flew in from London. OK, it was a short flight, but it took all day. From the hotel to the airport, the wait at the airport, departure, flying through time zones, arrival at Charles De Gaulle airport, now there’s an experience, and waiting for a transfer that never arrived, but that’s another story.
I can’t remember where we stayed the first time, it was somewhere out in the suburbs, but the second time we stayed at the Hilton near both the Eiffel Tower and the Australian Embassy, notable only because the concierge was dating an Australian girl working in the Embassy. That was our ticket for special treatment, which at times you need to get around in Paris.
It was the year before 2000 and the Eiffel Tower was covered in lights, and every hour or so it looked like a bubbling bottle of champagne. It was the first time we went to Level 3 of the Tower, and it was well worth it. The previous tour only included Level 2. This time we were acquainted with the fries available on the second level, and down below under the tower.
This time we acquainted ourselves with the Metro, the underground railway system, to navigate our way around to the various tourist spots, such as Notre Dame de Paris, The Louvre, Sacre-Coeur Basilica, and Les Invalides, and, of course, the trip to the crepe restaurant.
We also went to the Louvre for the express purpose of seeing the Mona Lisa, and I came away slightly disappointed. I had thought it to be a much larger painting. We then went to see the statue of Venus de Milo and spent some time trying to get a photo of it without stray visitors walking in front of us. Aside from that, we spent the rest of the day looking at the vast number of paintings, and Egyptian artifacts in the Museum.
We also visited the Opera House which was architecturally magnificent.
The third time we visited Paris we took our daughter, who was on her first international holiday. This time we stayed in a quaint Parisian hotel called Hotel Claude Bernard Saint Germain, (43 Rue Des Ecoles, Paris, 75005, France), recommended to us by a relation who’d stayed there the year before. It was small, and the elevator could only fit two people or one person and a suitcase. Our rooms were on the 4th floor, so climbing the stairs with luggage was out of the question.
It included breakfast and wifi, and it was quite reasonable for the four days we stayed there.
It was close to everything you could want, down the hill to the railway station, and a square where on some days there was a market, and for those days when we were hungry after a day’s exploring, a baguette shop where rolls and salad were very inexpensive and very delicious.
To our daughter we appeared to be experienced travelers, going on the Metro, visiting the Louvre, going, yes once again, to the crepe restaurant and the Basilica at Montmartre, Notre Dame, and this time by boat to the Eiffel Tower. We were going to do a boat rode on the Seine the last time but ran out of time.
We have some magnificent photos of the Tower from the boat.
Lunch on one of the days was at a restaurant not far from the Arc de Triomphe, where our daughter had a bucket of mussels. I was not as daring and had a hamburger and fries. Then we went to the center of the Arch and watched the traffic.
Our first time in Paris the bus driver got into the roundabout just to show us the dangers of driving in an unpredictable situation where drivers seem to take huge risks to get out at their exit. Needless to say, we survived that experience, though we did make a number of circuits.
We have been to Paris a number of times over the years.
The last time we visited Paris we brought the two eldest grandchildren. We took the Eurostar train from St Pancras station direct to Disneyland, then took the free bus from the station to the hotel. The train station was directly outside Disneyland.
We stayed at the Dream Castle Hotel, rather than Disneyland itself as it was a cheaper option and we had a family room that was quite large and breakfast was included every morning. Then it was a matter of getting the free bus to Disneyland.
We spent three days, time which seem to pass far too quickly, and we didn’t get to see everything. They did, however, find the time to buy two princess dresses, and then spent the rest of the time playing dress-ups whenever they could.
In Paris, we stayed at the Crown Plaza at Republique Square.
We took the children to the Eiffel Tower where the fries, and the carousel at the bottom of the tower, seemed to be more memorable than the tower itself. The day we visited, the third level was closed. The day was cold and windy so that probably accounted for the less than memorable visit. To give you some idea of conditions, it was the shortest queue to get in I’ve ever seen.
We traveled on the Metro where it was pointed out to me that the trains actually ran on rubber tires, something I had not noticed before. It was a first for both children to travel on a double-decker train.
The same day, we went to the Louvre.
Here, it was cold, wet and windy while we waited, Once inside we took the girls to the Mona Lisa, and after a walk up and down a considerable numkber of stairs, one said, “and we walked all this way to see this small painting”.
It quickly became obvious their idea of paintings were the much larger ones hanging in other galleries.
We also took them to the Arc de Triomphe.
We passed, and for some reason had to go into, the Disney shop, which I’m still wondering why after spending a small fortune at Disneyland itself.
Next on the tour list was the Opera House.
where one of the children thought she saw the ghost and refused to travel in one of the elevators. At least it was quite amazing inside with the marble, staircases, and paintings on the roof.
Sadly, I don’t think they were all that interested in architecture, but at the Opera House, they did actually get to see some ballet stars from the Russian Bolshoi ballet company practicing. As we were leaving the next day we could not go and see a performance.
Last but not least was Notre Dame with its gargoyles and imp[osing architecture.
All in all, traveling with children and experiencing Paris through their eyes made it a more memorable experience.
The first we visited Paris was at the end of a whirlwind bus tour, seven countries in seven days or something like that. It was a relief to get to Paris and stay two nights if only to catch our breath.
I remember three events from that tour, the visit to the Eiffel Tower, the tour of the night lights, not that we were able to take much in from the inside of the bus, and the farewell dinner in one of the tour guides specially selected restaurants. The food and atmosphere were incredible. It was also notable for introducing us to a crepe restaurant in Montmartre, another of the tour guide’s favorite places.
On that trip to Paris, we also spent an afternoon exploring the Palace of Versailles.
The next time we visited Paris we flew in from London. OK, it was a short flight, but it took all day. From the hotel to the airport, the wait at the airport, departure, flying through time zones, arrival at Charles De Gaulle airport, now there’s an experience, and waiting for a transfer that never arrived, but that’s another story.
I can’t remember where we stayed the first time, it was somewhere out in the suburbs, but the second time we stayed at the Hilton near both the Eiffel Tower and the Australian Embassy, notable only because the concierge was dating an Australian girl working in the Embassy. That was our ticket for special treatment, which at times you need to get around in Paris.
It was the year before 2000 and the Eiffel Tower was covered in lights, and every hour or so it looked like a bubbling bottle of champagne. It was the first time we went to Level 3 of the Tower, and it was well worth it. The previous tour only included Level 2. This time we were acquainted with the fries available on the second level, and down below under the tower.
This time we acquainted ourselves with the Metro, the underground railway system, to navigate our way around to the various tourist spots, such as Notre Dame de Paris, The Louvre, Sacre-Coeur Basilica, and Les Invalides, and, of course, the trip to the crepe restaurant.
We also went to the Louvre for the express purpose of seeing the Mona Lisa, and I came away slightly disappointed. I had thought it to be a much larger painting. We then went to see the statue of Venus de Milo and spent some time trying to get a photo of it without stray visitors walking in front of us. Aside from that, we spent the rest of the day looking at the vast number of paintings, and Egyptian artifacts in the Museum.
We also visited the Opera House which was architecturally magnificent.
The third time we visited Paris we took our daughter, who was on her first international holiday. This time we stayed in a quaint Parisian hotel called Hotel Claude Bernard Saint Germain, (43 Rue Des Ecoles, Paris, 75005, France), recommended to us by a relation who’d stayed there the year before. It was small, and the elevator could only fit two people or one person and a suitcase. Our rooms were on the 4th floor, so climbing the stairs with luggage was out of the question.
It included breakfast and wifi, and it was quite reasonable for the four days we stayed there.
It was close to everything you could want, down the hill to the railway station, and a square where on some days there was a market, and for those days when we were hungry after a day’s exploring, a baguette shop where rolls and salad were very inexpensive and very delicious.
To our daughter we appeared to be experienced travelers, going on the Metro, visiting the Louvre, going, yes once again, to the crepe restaurant and the Basilica at Montmartre, Notre Dame, and this time by boat to the Eiffel Tower. We were going to do a boat rode on the Seine the last time but ran out of time.
We have some magnificent photos of the Tower from the boat.
Lunch on one of the days was at a restaurant not far from the Arc de Triomphe, where our daughter had a bucket of mussels. I was not as daring and had a hamburger and fries. Then we went to the center of the Arch and watched the traffic.
Our first time in Paris the bus driver got into the roundabout just to show us the dangers of driving in an unpredictable situation where drivers seem to take huge risks to get out at their exit. Needless to say, we survived that experience, though we did make a number of circuits.
We have been to this palace several times, the last being with our granddaughters.
Anyone can take a photo of the front door, I think I have done one better, and taken a picture of the back door, hidden behind an ice cream vendor.
Excellent security measures in place!
But after visiting the palace for as long as the children could retain interest, which was beginning to wane after an hour or so, we came out to go to the Orangery and see if we could treat them to afternoon tea.
The Orangery is at the end of this walkway. More on this experience below.
Moving on…
It was a few minutes looking at round trees and squirrels which seemed to be in abundance. Maybe the squirrels were being spoiled by eating leftovers from the Orangery.
But the gardens beckoned.
Lots of green and color. This was in winter so the sun was a bonus.
We were expecting snow, but no such luck!
Not even the pond was frozen over.
Such was the good weather in the middle of winter, a great many people turned out to bask in what little sun there was.
Don’t worry, the next day it started raining again, and didn’t end till we left.
But, there’s only so much sun one can handle in London, and we were getting hungry. Whilst not expecting it would be available, or the girls would actually like cucumber sandwiches, we were hoping for them to, at the very least, have a new culinary experience.
As for us, we have a quest of sorts, depending on which country we’re in, and in London, it is a quest to find new places to have high tea as we had exhausted the favorites like Selfridges, Harrods, and Fortnum and Mason.
We had our fingers crossed.
There are a number of stops on the tour bus, you know the one, or two, with the word Highlights in its name. It’s easier to get on one of these than try to navigate your own way around, and it took us to Kensington Palace.
The weather had improved, we were hoping it would be one of those days with a surprise or two left in it.
We saw this white building tucked away near Kensington Palace and after doing the regulation tour we were up for a cup of tea and a cake.
Instead, we found they had High Tea and that was it.
The English seem to have a knack for pulling off some of the best sandwiches, particularly those of the cucumber variety, and definitely my absolute favorite.
Here we had the Queen’s tea.
In fact, at each of the establishments mentioned above, we had their signature tea, served in fine bone china cups.
Ah, what it must have been like in the olden days of the British Empire!
We have been to this palace several times, the last being with our granddaughters.
Anyone can take a photo of the front door, I think I have done one better, and taken a picture of the back door, hidden behind an ice cream vendor.
Excellent security measures in place!
But after visiting the palace for as long as the children could retain interest, which was beginning to wane after an hour or so, we came out to go to the Orangery and see if we could treat them to afternoon tea.
The Orangery is at the end of this walkway. More on this experience below.
Moving on…
It was a few minutes looking at round trees and squirrels which seemed to be in abundance. Maybe the squirrels were being spoiled by eating leftovers from the Orangery.
But the gardens beckoned.
Lots of green and color. This was in winter so the sun was a bonus.
We were expecting snow, but no such luck!
Not even the pond was frozen over.
Such was the good weather in the middle of winter, a great many people turned out to bask in what little sun there was.
Don’t worry, the next day it started raining again, and didn’t end till we left.
But, there’s only so much sun one can handle in London, and we were getting hungry. Whilst not expecting it would be available, or the girls would actually like cucumber sandwiches, we were hoping for them to, at the very least, have a new culinary experience.
As for us, we have a quest of sorts, depending on which country we’re in, and in London, it is a quest to find new places to have high tea as we had exhausted the favorites like Selfridges, Harrods, and Fortnum and Mason.
We had our fingers crossed.
There are a number of stops on the tour bus, you know the one, or two, with the word Highlights in its name. It’s easier to get on one of these than try to navigate your own way around, and it took us to Kensington Palace.
The weather had improved, we were hoping it would be one of those days with a surprise or two left in it.
We saw this white building tucked away near Kensington Palace and after doing the regulation tour we were up for a cup of tea and a cake.
Instead, we found they had High Tea and that was it.
The English seem to have a knack for pulling off some of the best sandwiches, particularly those of the cucumber variety, and definitely my absolute favorite.
Here we had the Queen’s tea.
In fact, at each of the establishments mentioned above, we had their signature tea, served in fine bone china cups.
Ah, what it must have been like in the olden days of the British Empire!
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 