Time: Sunday Night. About 9:45pm
Place: Dining Room, the Campanile Hotel, Roissypole, outside of Paris
Sarah: You know what would suck?
Sarah: Discovering you were allergic to something while you were in a foreign country.
Sarah: My lips are all tingly.
5 minutes later.
Sarah: Seriously! I don’t know what this is! the only word I could make our was Fillet & now my lips are really really tingly. And you don’t seem to care!
Craig: I didn’t respond because I knew you’d just freak out. I knew the moment that you mentioned finding out you were allergic to something. Just don’t eat anymore of it.
Sarah: oh. okay.
He really is the calm one.
We are back from Paris. Finally. We got to the airport at 6pm on Sunday to find out that our flight was Annulé. Cancelled. We had panicked & crossed our fingers so much about actually getting to Paris but forgot that we were flying back into terminal 5 as well.
So we stood & sat & complained in line for two hours. There were no flights left that day but if we didn’t mind going to London City airport instead of Heathrow then they could get us on a flight at 7:30 the next morning.
Didn’t mind? Didn’t mind? we loved the idea. It’s much easier to get to Southwark from Greenwich than Heathrow. And it meant no Terminal 5.
We collected our flight ticket & our hotel & meal vouchers and Craig stood outside to wait for the shuttle. It started snowing! the weather that had derailed the flights in London that morning had reached Paris. We crossed our fingers.
We were shuttled around to an anonymous, bland hotel in the area outside of Paris known as Roissypole. All airport hotels & highways. No personality, no real life.
The hotel staff were stretched to breaking. They all of a sudden had a hundred or so people show up for rooms & dinner & it was late and they were not prepared (nor could they have been!) so when we finally got dinner, it was an almost empty buffet. Hence the strange fish food which made my lips tingle.
We had to wake up at 4 the next morning in time for breakfast & shuttle & check in etcetera etcetera. I lay on the bed in agony with the worst exhaustion-enduced nausea I’ve ever had (super fun! turned out to be some kind of stomach bug! I’m still sick!) but after breakfast (blech) we stood, waiting for the shuttle, and realised that outside it was still snowing! proper snow! stuff that sticks on the ground & trees & cars and is a couple of inches thick. Unlike the London snow we’ve seen which hits the ground and melts. It was lovely. And the cold air made me feel a little better.
Our trip to Paris in general was lovely. The whole time that we were supposed to be there, I loved it. It was only once we were due to be gone that it was hellish.
We ate crepes & chocolat chaud, we walked and walked and walked and walked. We walked the Champs Elysée & took the stairs to the top of the Arc de Triomphe. We went to the top of the Eiffel tower & climbed the hill to Sacré Coeur. We went to the Louvre & the Orangerie & the Musée d’Orsay.
Our hotel was little & tall and had a lift that Craig & I could barely fit in. Seriously, my shoulders touched the sides & Craig’s were a little squashed in! Amazing.
But right now I am sick and while I have yet another day off work (planned on one. Today makes three) I feel too sick to edit, organise & upload photos. Perhaps this weekend?
I want to show you all! Paris is magical.
Also, this has taken me a long long time to write. I can’t exactly type properly at the moment. My hands feel all weak and weird.