I need to blog about my 21st soon, not because I might forget things before I have a chance to document them, but because I am fearing for my life from Gill who thinks that I have had ample time to blog. Except I don't think I have, I just want to sit on the sofa with a cup of tea, a book and my iPod all day everyday and I can't even do that. And now I'm home for a week to work but on the plus side I get to play with my new computer*, so here goes...

After the rather leisurely pace of 'Corinne Literary Tours of London', it was rather a shock to the system to find myself getting up at around six on a Saturday, so much so that Corinne and I didn't even have a clue what Radio 1 even broadcast at that hour. However, within about two hours we were at Waterloo ready to wander through security and set off their alarms. Then we found the platform and realised that there was no way we could avoid The DaVinci Code...


I've never travelled by Eurostar before but the journey was relatively quick and after a slightly confusing saga with tickets at the Guarde Nord we were coping rather well with the Metro system and arrived at the Champs Elysee. We were then confused slightly further but eventually found our hotel only to discover they had issues with the rooms and wanted to move us to another hotel for one night only and then have us move back. We told them we didn't see that happening and they put us on the 6th floor and the 4th floor. But the most important thing of all? There was a phone in the bathroom a la Joey in Friends.

We decided we'd leave again in about half an hour. My dad and mum apparently unpacked their suitcases, Corinne hung up her dresses and discovered she had brought way too many and I lounged on the very comfortable bed reading the hotel folder and telling Corinne that reception would exchange her money for francs...


We decided to wander down to the Eiffel Tower since we had the best part of an afternoon to spend so might as well try and go up to the top. Something we discovered was easier said than done. The queues were huge and I mean I know the British like to queue but even this was a challenge for me and Corinne. Not only did you have to queue to buy a ticket and then get in the lift that takes you up to the 2nd floor. But after you were done there, you had to join another huge queue to get a lift to the top and then do the same back down again. The views were great though and we had ice cream when we came back down again, which I managed to spill all over my white guitar top. It's a talent, I tell ya. Another talent is the fact that Corinne and I seem to be able to find restaurants with either tiramisu or profiteroles -or indeed both- on their dessert menu. That night was no exception and once we'd got over the language barrier with the help of Corinne's handy phrasebook, we had a great meal. Complete avec profiteroles. See, this french speaking lark is really quite easy. Fromagerie, boulangerie...


*As yet unamed. I think I shall have a big naming ceremony when I eventually move it up to Birmingham.