Paris the Remarkable.

 

The Architecture,

 

the parks,

Art Galleries,

Cafe's,

black youths hustling at tourist hot spots, hookers working out of cars, vans and off the roadside throught the Boise Boulange - morning and eviening, motor scooters motor bikes and horn tooting cars, cars parked illegally with hazard lights flaxhing , almost continuous police sirens from groups of squad cars racing to quell something or other, mini bus loads of policemen  parked in quite Boulevards, reading newspapers while awaiting the next callout, traffic police directing traffic - sometimes 3 or 4 on the same intersection - directing traffic with a combination of waving arms and earsplitting whistles.

Cycling the Champ's Elysee,

past the Arc d'Triomphe

along the Seine,

 

around the Louvre, through the Tuillierie and Luxemborg Gardens

 

and under the Eiffel Tower.

Camping alongside us, Dom, Thailand born, greying hair pulled back in a pony tail with his jazzy little snap brim hat adorned with a colourful ribbon, smart jacket and a pocket full of losing tote tickets, but a big smile and confirmation the he'd had

"A jolly good day, I just love the atmosphere, the colour the noise and the access to all the stands, all for only Ten Euro’s”

It was his description of the big event that decided us to go along to the races on our first day in Paris, and we really enjoyed it.

We also had a pocket of losing bets, to the grand tune of Twelve Euros

There was plenty of Sheik Rattle and Roll at the Qatar Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe

Packing bikes at Charles de Gaulle airport

The flight home was horrendous, as expected and as usual (for me  anyway)

but the drive home through the luxuriantly green and beautiful North Canterbury and uncluttered road along Kaikoura Coast, made us wonder why we ever go away