Arrival in Paris!

At my last update, I was hooning around Northern Ireland in 12 degree weather. I am now wandering around Paris and baking in the heat. Comparatively.

I arrived home on the Tuesday night, and spent Wednesday reasonably relaxed - taking my Nan out to the park, etc. On Thursday I went to have dinner with Margot and her flatmates, and due to to much good conversation, and a bit of wine, ended up crashing and struggling home in the morning. Margot followed me to the north, and I took her to Kenwood House, which is one of my favourite spots - a historic house on beautiful grounds adjoining Hampstead Heath. It has been turned into an art gallery, with some (I'm told) very important works in it. There was a portrait by Rembrandt that I recognised, but it's the house and grounds I'm really interested in. We were lucky to have a glorious day, too, which made it even better.

Friday night we went to meet my cousin Mark for dinner, which was delicious, then he somehow managed to convince me to go out to the corniest club in London. Mercifully for her, Margot escaped and went home to bed, but I was forced to endure incredibly corny music and the sight of drunk English people playing tonsil hockey relay. I somehow managed to enjoy myself, of course, though I think once is probably enough for that particular establishment. I slept on the floor of a very lovely friend of Mark's, and struggled home again, by this time incredibly tired.

Despite this, I managed to mow the lawn, pack, drive through London to pick up Margot and all her stuff, and go out to dinner with my family. No, really, I'd like my medal now please.
Waking this morning, the mood was all excitment. Off to Paris! Everything was easy and on time, and we walked into St. Pancras feeling fresh and anticipatory. That, of course, should have warned us that something was going to go wrong. I, foolishly thinking that international travel on the Eurostar would be something like on a plane, packed my swiss army knife, which is always my companion when I travel - knife, corkscrew, bottle opener. Apparently, though, knives with blades that lock open are illegal. Why they are more dangerous, I can't imagine, but my knife was confiscated anyway. What's more, I somehow lost the £30 credit voucher for my phone in the confusion. So now I'm in France with no credit on my phone, and minus one knife (a 21st present, no less). On top of which, before we'd even hit the hostel, Margot had lost her cardigan thing.

So, that's three things, which hopefully means the bad run is over. Certainly the rest of the day has been wonderful. We had booked for an 8 bed dorm, and on arrival were given a private twin room, which put us in a good mood instantly. The hostel is in Montmarte, very close to the Sacre Coeur, and we've spent the afternoon wandering around the little streets, walking around the Sacre Coeur itself - which was shut as there was a mass in progress - and getting our bearings. We saw the Moulin Rouge, after walking past numerous "adult" shops; you wouldn't believe what they think is suitable for a window display in this city. We visited the cemetery, which is a little haven of trees and mausoleums in all the chaos, and had a sandwich for dinner, it being the only thing that we could afford (even a coffee from a hole in the wall place here costs 2.50, or five dollars) .

So that's everything up to date. I am absolutely dropping, so it's off for a last stroll and then bed - lots to do tomorrow!