Paris: Day 3

Window Displays, Galleries Lafayette, Paris
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Over breakfast we chatted to quite a few members of our group and apparently nobody had managed to find a Christmas market. We hadn’t gone wrong; we were just here too early. We might be disappointed in the operator of the trip, but sadly some people had been taking it out on our social secretary, who had organised it. This was horribly unfair because she had booked it in good faith. Plus she does this as voluntary work, on top of her day job.

We didn’t have to leave Paris until midday, so after breakfast Y and I decided to see if Galleries Lafayette was open. We didn’t hold out much hope as the French don’t really do Sunday opening, but someone had heard a rumour that it would be. I hadn’t realised it was such a foul day. I had left my sensible waterproofs back in the hotel room and instead worn a more fashionable coat. I had put all my faith in a cheap £1 umbrella!

Just as we crossed the road to take a closer look a strong gust of wind not only turned my brolly inside out, it folded it clean in half!

Window Displays, Galleries Layfayette, Paris
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Our hotel was really well placed and within 10 minutes we had found Galleries Lafayette and it was very definitely closed! It is Paris’s answer to Harrods and although the shop was wasn’t open they had laid on some wonderfully impressive window displays. In fact large numbers of Parisians had come to see them, particular the animated displays aimed at children. They actually had little wooden ramps for the children to stand on and peer in.

Y had great fun playing with my digital camera, taking photographs and videos of all of the windows. I must admit she did a much better job than I would have. Perhaps she’ll finally throw out her old film SLA camera and move into the 21^st century.

Window Displays, Galleries Layfayette, Paris
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The day had really started badly. It was wet, windy and miserable and I was fed up (with yet another cold). I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to be soaking wet and most of all I just wanted my umbrella to stop turning itself inside out. Eventually I dragged Y away from the window displays so that we could take a closer look at the Opera House across the street. I wanted to take a photograph of it but couldn’t find a dry enough vantage point. Just as we crossed the road to take a closer look a strong gust of wind not only turned my brolly inside out, it folded it clean in half! With a certain amount of bad grace I stuffed it into a nearby rubbish bin. My mood was not improved when I realised I had dropped my camera case and had to retrace my steps to find it.

Window Displays, Galleries Layfayette, Paris
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We found a bit of shelter inside the Opera House and got the chance to admire the beautiful staircase, which unfortunately was roped off. We had both pretty much had enough so decided to call it a day and head back to the hotel.

Never one to take the same road twice, Y decided we should take slightly different route before coming back onto our street. All seemed to be going well until we caught a glimpse of a rather elegant column fronted church with the Sacre-Coeur directly behind it. There was something familiar but wrong about this view. We had seen both churches when we walked down to the shops earlier, but there had been a crane spoiling the view. I looked behind me and discovered that the crane seemed to have moved. Or to be more precise, we were not on the street we thought we were. Thank heavens I’d spotted our mistake or goodness knows where we would have ended up.

Store card dress, Galleries Lafayette, Paris
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There is something about being wet and miserable that makes you crave familiar thing. That was my excuse for stopping off in Starbucks just a few 100 yards from our hotel. What’s more we thoroughly enjoyed our coffee as we stared out the window onto the cold, windswept streets. I even managed to buy a salmon bagel and muffin.

Back at the hotel, we quickly visited the shopping arcade, just in case we’d missed some great treat (plus it was a hell of a lot drier than on the street). One of our union reps was in the shop just opposite the hotel entrance. She was trying on cardigans and couldn’t decide which one was the best. If we couldn’t manage to spend our own money at least we could spend someone else’s!

Detail of a Storecard Dress, Galleries Lafayette, Paris
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Finally we collected all our bags and collected outside on the street by the coach. The driver was loading up the suitcases, but kept diving back into the hotel. Considering his warnings on the first day about passers by grabbing bags, he didn’t seem too concerned to keep an eye on it now. So whilst everyone else loaded themselves up, I stood guard. Well at least for as long as it took for our bags to be buried beneath the rest.

I can’t say it was a sad farewell. I was grateful to be on a dry warm coach and be heading home. I even enjoyed watching the DVD that the people at the front of the coach put on – after about 50 attempts, playing the same advert over and over again! It was the modern version of The Italian Job and although nobody tried to “blow the bloody doors off” it was great and helped to pass the time. Well at least I appreciated it – everyone else hated it and complained because it was too loud, too quiet, they couldn’t see the screen or they could see the screen. You certainly can’t please all of the people all of the time.

Window Displays, Galleries Layfayette, Paris
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Again, driving along motorways, in the rain, doesn’t make for good reading. However, we did make a pit stop at one of the most attractive service stations I’ve ever seen (well perhaps not in the rain). On the far side of the building, away from the car park, was a large lake, edged with reeds. It turned out to have its own wetland nature reserve. If there hadn’t been such a storm brewing we could have climbed up a large three storey tower to admire the surrounding countryside and bird watch. I just wish I knew where it was! The best I can say is it was within the Somme. We found a map to tell us that much but couldn’t quite agree as to which road we were on. A nice little “you are here” would have come in handy.

Thinking ahead to the ferry trip and undoubtedly rough seas, I had taken my motion sickness tables and offered them to Y. She decided she could do without. The others weren’t so sure so they took some too – we decided we’d impress Y by being bright eyed and bushy tailed on the ferry later, when everyone else was suffering.

Our final stop before leaving France was the inevitable trip to the wine warehouse in Calais. It’s amazing how much booze a coach load can pick up in just 30 minutes. I had learnt from previous trips that it simply wasn’t worth buying spirits. I always go for French wine, in one glass bottles. They’re perfect for cooking with and they only cost €1 each, that’s about 60p!

The weather is rough and things didn’t go well at the ferry port. We arrived in good time, but were still delayed by about 1 hour. The only rest bite provided was a rather sterile toilet block with a host of vending machines and queues, queues and more queues.

After what felt like ages we made it on board and headed straight for the restaurant again. We spent the rest of the trip sitting there, with people feeling decidedly ill all around. We on the other hand enjoyed our dinner and made the most of our freedom. It was the last stop we had before arriving back home, very tired, much later that evening.