Day-0 in Paris

Paris. First impression’s that Paris is easier on the eye than Barcelona, and more multi-ethnic and cosmopolitan. Bath and some fabulous toast and omelettes at Loki’s place in Cergy le Haut in the suburbs sets me back by 4 hours but Chiru and Tommy from Bordeaux are added to the party. The Eiffel tower is looked at, the climb to the top put on hold and we walk to Arc de Triompf and down Champs-Elysees.

Touring around is funny business. Chiru’s aim is to click 10 GB worth of photos, Tommy looks perennially worried about how many and what places he can cover in a day, and Loki hates the fares for travel and entry into places. It was meant to be fun, wasn’t it?

The late start costs us dear. The other three head back home while I sit at the entrance to the Louvre and make plans. I decide not to miss the trip up the Eiffel. An old pedestrian bridge across the Siene plays host to dozens of tourists picnicking in the twilight with guitars and baskets and the works. But being alone, I walk on, guided by the sweeping beam from the tower.

The view from the top’s good, the air’s chilly, the flashing lights make a good photograph and the crowd has people from across the globe but no emotions are evoked. Now I’ve been there, done that, good bye.

Back at Cergy le Haut, tortillas and dal for dinner. The French tortillas are almost chapattis and totally unrelated to the Mexican / Spanish tortillas which are omelettes. Cricinfo’s reports on the Super Series are read and Normandie and the D-Day beaches are chosen for a Sunday outing.