After the disappointment of not getting our holiday in Ireland, our next holiday went like a dream. As we’d promised, we took Granny Betty to Paris on the same tour as we’d done the year before. The only difference was that we were staying in a different hotel this time and our bedroom had a super view of the Eiffel Tower.
We had lovely weather – apart from a little thunderstorm when we were on the ferry going from Dover to Calais…
…and we all went up to the top of the Eiffel Tower, which Granny Betty loved.
We all had a great time, but when we got back to our hotel we felt a little bit sad, as there was a couple and their 11-year-old daughter sitting at our table in the dining-room and she’d been telling us earlier how much she was looking forward to going to the top of the Eiffel Tower as it was going to be a special treat for her after she’d done really well at junior school.
We asked her if she’d enjoyed it, but to our surprise she shook her head and pulled a face. Then her mum explained that they’d got as far as the second landing and both she and her husband had lost their nerve and daredn’t go any further and their daughter had to go back down with them and so missed out on the highlight of her trip.
We also had a bit of an embarrassing moment when we visited the Sacre-Coeur de Montmartre.
Having done a lot of walking already, Granny Betty decided she could do with a little rest before looking round the church. So, spying a row of empty seats to one side, we decided to have a quiet sit down there so we weren’t in anyone else’s way. We’d hardly got comfortable, however, before a very smart old lady approached us and said, “Excusez-moi, mesdames, mais voulez-vous confesser?”
Now I hadn’t a clue what she meant, but luckily both Mum and Granny Betty can speak a bit of French, and knew that she was asking if we were waiting to confess as it turned out that we’d accidentally managed to sit ourselves in the seats reserved for the confession queue.
Mum apologised and, in her best French-with-a-Yorkshire-accent, said, “Non, madame, nous sommes très fatigués et seulement voulons rester nos jambes pour un moment!” and hoped that that meant that we were very tired and only wanted to rest our legs for a moment. Then we quickly got up and scuttled away, just in case Mum had unintentionally said something silly…
Luckily we then got round the beautiful basilica without embarrassing ourselves any further…
…and the rest of our trip went smoothly. We did all the things Mum and I had done the year before, including a visit to Notre Dame…
…a tour of Paris by night…
…a cruise along the river Seine…
…and a visit to the palace of Versailles…
…where a land-train took us on a tour of the beautiful gardens in full summer bloom…
We even managed a ride on the Paris Metro – and arrived where we hoped to at our first attempt!
But all too soon it was time to be packing our suitcase and setting off home again. After cramming so much into four days, however, by the time we got back to Yorkshire, we were ready for another holiday.
That was already planned, but, before it arrived, there was another unexpected turn of events as Mum got the chance to buy her own house – at last. I’ll have to tell you more about that in my next post, however, as I’ve written enough for today. So, meanwhile, take care, stay safe – and look out for more tales from me soon.
Follow my next blog: 313. MY MUM THE STORY-TELLER – PART ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SEVEN
18/04/2024
Wilf the bear-faced blogger 