Anyway, we somehow managed to consolidate our 5 pieces of hand luggage into 2 through customs at Heathrow – must have been those toiletries that we were made to put into the separate see-through bag provided that did it !!– and feeling like the total frauds that we are, we were let into Europe. (Meaning, our official European citizenry was recognized at the boarder and we’re now allowed to stay as long as we like – the only downside to which is that we’ll never acquire any entry and exit stamps to attest to where we’ve been). Just on the topic of luggage, the 5 pieces of hand luggage are in addition to the 3 main bags weighing in at 50kg and if I find myself having to lug the ski bag anywhere again, ever, it will be the death of me!! (I think we’ll resolve to buy a car at the end of the season just so we can transport our sheet out of here!!)
Having managed to cart our full assortment of gear to our Montmarte hostel (I’m so glad I made Nic leave those other 6 pairs of shoes back at home :)) and now energized with my nutella, banana, honey, almond and cream liqueur crepe we figured there’s no time better than a Saturday night to gauge what a town like Paris has to offer. Having been advised by our friend Vincent that there’s no place cooler to go than the Latin quarter and knowing full well that we’d lose our shirts trying to have a few anywhere on the tourist route (this was validated the next day when coffees cost 6 Euros each on the Champs Elysee – pretty good though), we found ourselves in a cool petit bar somewhere off the back of Bld Saint-Germain. Now, what needs to be appreciated firstly when going out drinking in bars in Paris is that you can’t just run in and seat yourself – we tried and we know!! Take it from us, you will be yelled at in a foreign language!! You are correctly greeted at the door and advised politely that there’s a 15 minute wait for a table. Following this period of looking particularly sophisticated and ooh-la-la-ing in the typical Parisian way (this is the done thing, we’re not making this up), you’re introduced to Jean-Michel who advises you that he will be your waiter for the evening, escorted to your third floor table (this is a four floor, swanky arse Parisian bar) seated accordingly and pres
ented with your drinks menu. By about midnight, a few drinks later, you notice the most curious thing about the bar; you can still hear the music, no one’s speaking with raised voices, you’re the only one who’s managed to fall off your chair (at least I managed to make it back on unassisted) and everyone’s still politely seated and elegantly sipping on the same drink that they started the night off on. Oui, C’est le Parisian Bar experience :).
Following our night out on the piss (sort of; one you can’t afford to get drunk; two stumbling down the street in Paris is so not the done thing – I was quite embarrassed for Nic :o), after the required visit to the boulangerie et le chacuterie (bakery and deli) – look, you need to make your own smelly cheese baguettes if you’re going to survive in the big city – we were off for our day of sight seeing. Here’s a best of;
[NB: Notice me in a deeply relaxing headstand in front of the Eiffel Tower – Rachey Rachey eat your heart out.]
In true goulash fashion, (that is noting that anywhere is always no more than 20 minutes away) we managed to drop off that heavy arse luggage that I keep talking about and found ourselves racing through the streets of Lyon to deliver the car to the airport quite a way outside of the city. Despite reaching ludicrous speed on occasion (noting too that Nic left a dent in the panic bar – maybe that’s what they charged us for the bastards?) it turned out that we were in fact 28 minutes away!
We spent the next 2 days wining and dining on boeuff, gateaux de foies, mousse du canard, tripe and all sorts of other Lyon delicacies that would make any Vlandis lose their lunch – let me just add that the patisseries here are something else, c’est formidable!! Anyway, we really enjoyed the city of Lyon, it has a fantastic feel about it. Here are some happy snaps to breakup the boredom of this essay;
Onto Annecy and I guess our travels had simply been too effortless up until now – even telling that twit at Budget that we refused to pay him/them an extra 170 bucks for the car (some additional fees they decided to make up and then waive) wasn’t a real drama. We were thus just a touch surprised to hear the cab driver inform us that our hotel was another 15kms away after having been in the taxi for 20 minutes and then deliver us to Faverge with a facetious “voila” – this shonky internet advertising has to stop! (We could have sworn we booked accommodation in Annecy). Incident out of the way, we found a fantastic little hotel on one of the many canals that run through the town and took these following shots. Annecy is this beautiful town set on the cleanest lake in Europe right at the foot of the Alps; 
Aurevoir et a bientot!
Patting Cheetahs in Namibia
Eating sand in Swakopmund!
