Paris and all that jazz..

Ah Gay Paris! Exactly what I needed, a nice girly holiday with Mum, to a place we both had not visited before. The place is full of history, culture and simply experiencing Paris for all its glory and sins has given us, mum and daughter, a whole new set of memories to cherish forever more.

The city has its fair share of fans and haters, but for all the pomposity and showmanship, it has class, debonair and eccentricity that makes the city of love all the more alluring to a tourist, well it certainly intrigued me.

The trip was all the more special for mum being there, as I rarely see her- because she lives in Singapore. Girls just wanna have fun! And boy did we! We arrived in Paris in the wee hours of the morning-British time 6am, French time 7am.

My knowledge of French, is limited and fairly basic, mum's non-existence. I can read French, holding a conversation, however, err let's not go there. So it fell upon me to be the Navi. As soon as we got there, we weren't disappointed, started our holiday travelling on the metro to our hotel, a street musician boards the the train looking to make a quick euro by waking up the morning commuters.
Not the best idea in my opinion trying to wake up a bunch sleepy French people, needless to say he went away without a cent. He'd earn a bit more if he sold
coffee instead.                                                         

 

Talking about coffee, we certainly enjoyed the cafe culture was relaxing and it had to be done- when in Rome, I mean when in Paris!                                We went around the usual tourist routes, tour bus and so and so fort. I did however convince my mother to take a late night trip down to the famous windmill in the land- Moulin Rouge! Yes, rather naughty and not seeded as you may think, after all I was with my mother! She's cool, we had a laugh walking around Paris red light district (during the day time initially). We were waiting to cross the street, stood outside what we later deduced was a pole-dancing club. The bouncers were beckoning us to go inside and take a look. No way! We giggled like two school girls and dashed across to patisserie.

Our hotel was located in the an area called Monmarte. It was a beautiful , hilly location with historic buildings dotted around the area. It's main attraction was the Basilica Monmarte., a uniquely designed catholic church with a stunning view of the city.     

Another first, we had our portraits drawn by a couple lovely street artists.

We stood there with in the lovely sunshine, down a cobbled alley way beside Monmarte church. They were every so sweet and funny and me being me, asking loads of questions. The guy who drew my picture- Andy, was a native to the district. his grandfather used to own the restaurant that was behind us. The guy who drew mum's picture- Boris, a Russian friend of Andy's and they work together getting a few euros to get by as artists. I admire them for doing what the want, and I personally thought they were good.
Mum and strolled off with our pencil sketches and merged back into the tourist crowds. Souvenirs shops, wandering the ancient pavements and side streets. Pungent metro stations and back to our hotel rooms, worn out but not defeated-yet. We'd drop the shopping bags in our room and head for the cafe for some drinks and food. It was during our midnight stroll,
I found out that my mum was better at finding the way back than I was..

I'd say that was a brilliant getaway. Paris was fun! London's still my favourite city! Wink wink nudge nudge aye! I dare say some French might find the Brits interesting?! If this union jack topped red bently is anything to go by!

Travels to the edge of the world (ok, to the most westerly point in England)

I'm must start by saying how grateful I am first. I'm a very lucky person. I feel I need to acknowledge the fact that if it weren't for the greatest love and care I get from my family and friends, all these may not have been quite possible.

So far, you may have read about my plans to travel to some really stunning locations the British Isles has to offer, well I can gladly say, I can tick off two more places on that long list. Cornwall and Devon! Wow, as I expected absolutely beautiful sites and to my surprise the weather actually held out for the week. The journey starts early-ish for me, travelling by train reminds of the books I used to read about the travels of Phileas Fogg- not quite around the world in 80 days but still it was an adventure non-the-less.

Cambridge on the fast train to busy, bustling King's Cross thankfully I reach London just after the morning rush hour which means the tubes won't be half as pack as it normally would be. Crossing the 200 year old underground network to get to the station that gave us the most kindest and cutest bear- Paddington. The smell of freshly baked pasty and baguettes had to wait as I had to find the ticket office to purchase my very cheap returns to Truro and back.

20 minutes to go before my train leaves, the last thing I was expecting was a flirtatious ticketing officer. It so made my day that he was actually gorgeous!  Lugging around my purple flowered hippie suitcase did get some looks, but that was fun it helped me start some interesting conversations with a few rather cute gentlemen (that's another blog, wink wink , nudge nudge!) I know right! what stroke of luck with men, this trip was meant to be, and I was sure going to savour every minute of it.

The four and half hour or so journey was not that bad actually, the train was travelling on historic tracks and bridges engineered by Isambard Kingdom Brunel. My favourite pictures en-route was taken near Paignton (Below) and Teignmouth (Above) in South Devon.
The beaches had proper sand and the sea air was therapeutic to the dust and carbon monoxide filled lungs of mine.

As I whizz by the on the comfy train, my mind wonder and ideas of a pirate novel and the urge just to go 'Aye aye' and 'Urrh me matey' was tempting.

I scoff my yummy chicken salad baguette and gulp down the apple and raspberry flavoured water as I sat soaking up the warm rays of the sun, in the comfort of the train now that was whizzing by the Western coastline.

Truro! Well here I was, standing on the platform of the small country train station looking astonished and weary. The thing that you notice when you get there is how hilly and narrow the roads and paths are, than I learn that the town is located in a valley; I won't rush out and get a bicycle anytime soon than.

I had found my way to my B&B, and found that Cornish people are very very nice and cheerful.Stark contrast to the stern, stiff upper lip folk in the rest of the urban areas. Seagulls, they were like pigeons are to the streets of London, simply everywhere.

I vaguely remember, ages ago on a beach in East Anglia, a seagull stole my chips, so I was cautious of this one stealing my fried rice from me.

I made good progress, the day after my interview in Truro itself. I had a day and half to look around the West Country. I took a bus to Penzance- Pirates of Penzance came to mind, didn't meet any pirates sadly.

Had made it to several other places in between too; Falmouth, St Ives and of course had to go to Land's End.

It has this land mark inn. As you approach Land's End, the sign reads : 'The Last Inn in England'-Nooooo (hehee) and as you make you way back away the sign would read :'The First Inn in England'-Sweet.

I covered alot of ground, met and spoke to some really sweet people who appreciate a good chat about anything and nothing, that added to the fun of travelling alone. It never seizes to amaze me who or what you may see. There are so much more out there to explore, if one had all the time in the world and enough of course money, I would easily be a traveller. Wonder what it must have been like in the days of horse and cart? No one had much money but had loads of time in their hands.

The waiting game, and the moments inbetween