I got home last night on the last Eurostar train from Paris; simply taken aback and astounded by the colourful events of the past few weeks. So instead, I slept through the two-hour twenty-minute journey.
Today, on my first day back, a boxing session with Paolo turned into a stretching one instead. I needed to ease the pain of all the walking, sightseeing, climbing through mud, shopping etc., from this exhausted body. Soon, it was time to meet Troy and Dylan for a very late lunch.
Later on in the afternoon, from my bedroom window, I watched the elderly man staring at the plants and flowers he and his wife so lovingly plant in the gardens below. Every time I look out, he is standing there, at the same spot, observing the evolution of his nurtured fruition. It makes me think how content they seem to be in each other's company. They have visits from their children and grandchildren, they watch their plants grow in the heart of a buzzing city and they seem happy. If only life was as simple as this perfect picture I see here.
On the other side of the ground floor, lives Mrs Black. She is entertaining to watch, as the petite elderly lady barely sits still. Mrs Black was leaving through her patio gate, leading to the gardens dressed elegantly in red, with a hat of course. Another night out in town no doubt. I got her to smile, in a girlish way, from my Romeo and Juliet balcony, I looked down and complimented her on the red outfit she wore.
"The lady in red," I said, "And very becoming, if I may say."
And here's me, the tourist neighbour.
Last week was spent in France in the company of Audrey. A friend I met in London when we were 20 years of age and with whom I had lost touch for decades. At the time she was visiting London from California; where she had resided the past few years and after countless attempts to find my telephone number had failed, she accidentally met Hala on a street corner. We kept in touch since and decided to spend a holiday in France together. On our first night in Juan Les Pins, we talked our way through dinner, over a bottle of Provence rose, at the Helios restaurant on the beach and did not get to bed until 3.30 a.m., whereas my friend looked at her watch and said shockingly:
"Haldita! It's 3.30, I've Never slept so late in my life!"
And we burst into laughter at how I keep my friends up! But surely, it's not just up to me.
At the end of our week in France, we visited Chateau de Versailles on the 5th of July, the day after Independence Day, could not quite believe the number of times I heard Americans speak in cafes and restaurants in Paris.
I could well recall my first visit to Versailles in April two years ago with Dylan and Beata and here I was again, seeing the gardens in full bloom, plus the interiors of the grand palace with Audrey, her friend Hamilton, his sister Clara and their friend, Sima, all visitors from California.
We caught the train RER once again to Versailles Rive Gauche and walked along the wide tree-lined street under the bluest of skies, protected by the shade of the leaves, yet feeling the heat of the sun. Terrible to admit, but we kind of barged our way through the long-standing crowd into the glass interiors, to face the magnificence of the grandeur of the palaces once occupied by Kings and Queens of France; The Louis era, revisited!
A good start. Don't you just love a man who can carry the weight of an angelic woman!
"Haldita! It's 3.30, I've Never slept so late in my life!"
And we burst into laughter at how I keep my friends up! But surely, it's not just up to me.
At the end of our week in France, we visited Chateau de Versailles on the 5th of July, the day after Independence Day, could not quite believe the number of times I heard Americans speak in cafes and restaurants in Paris.
I could well recall my first visit to Versailles in April two years ago with Dylan and Beata and here I was again, seeing the gardens in full bloom, plus the interiors of the grand palace with Audrey, her friend Hamilton, his sister Clara and their friend, Sima, all visitors from California.
We caught the train RER once again to Versailles Rive Gauche and walked along the wide tree-lined street under the bluest of skies, protected by the shade of the leaves, yet feeling the heat of the sun. Terrible to admit, but we kind of barged our way through the long-standing crowd into the glass interiors, to face the magnificence of the grandeur of the palaces once occupied by Kings and Queens of France; The Louis era, revisited!
A good start. Don't you just love a man who can carry the weight of an angelic woman!
How come the saying does not reverse into 'behind every successful woman is a man?'
It does imply at times I guess. After all, Lady Thatcher had one.
The featured modern exhibits (like the one behind the gates in the picture below) were new to the grounds of Versailles.
The glitter of gold under the sun was most dominant throughout the exterior of the palace. We entered the second building on the right to begin our tour.
Walking into the majestic gardens, so immaculately cultivated in full bloom of the most delicate flowers, Clara commented 'en passant':
"I'd hate to be the gardener here!"
So immaculately cultivated.
After lunch in one of the many restaurants in the vicinity, We wandered around the gardens towards the fountain for a promised 'musical fountain show' which did not take place and made way back to view more of the majestic interiors.
Walking through the main hallway with many otherworldly visitors, with only a few windows open, it was the magnitude of splendour in the design that kept us going through room after room. Well, that and the fact that there was no other way out!
The featured modern exhibits (like the one behind the gates in the picture below) were new to the grounds of Versailles.
The glitter of gold under the sun was most dominant throughout the exterior of the palace. We entered the second building on the right to begin our tour.
Walking into the majestic gardens, so immaculately cultivated in full bloom of the most delicate flowers, Clara commented 'en passant':
"I'd hate to be the gardener here!"
So immaculately cultivated.
After lunch in one of the many restaurants in the vicinity, We wandered around the gardens towards the fountain for a promised 'musical fountain show' which did not take place and made way back to view more of the majestic interiors.
There was a sign, directing us to the King's bedroom; 'La chambre de roi'.
I asked the young girl attendant in French:
"And could I touch the King's bed?"
She looked at me rather bewildered, so I laughed. She cheekily replied:
"No. You can't lie on his bed either!"
"Quel domage!" (What a shame), I continued:
"Perhaps in another lifetime."
On that note, we made our way to the lavish quarters in red and gold. Followed by the 'Chambre de la Reine'; a most delicate, softly colourful display of exquisite French style; fit for a Queen.
On our way out, I noticed the priest demonstrating an amusing subject on what looked like his latest gadget; his mobile! Seems no one can get away from modern technology in this day and age.
Audrey and I left our friends behind at Versailles, to head to the railway station, as my booked taxi was awaiting at our apartment, to deliver me to Gare du Nord, for the last train home to London.
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