Irma and self had decided to go to france for a short holiday, and then she would go back to Scotland with me. At this stage she was still fancy free, and she and Ally, whom she met on a previous holiday, kept up their friendship, or maybe courtship, and she was looking forward very much to see him again.
So started our quest to get our visas, and to get into France as out first entrance to the Shengen states, we had to have our hotels booked, and it was a bit of a nuisance, as we wanted to hire a car and drive as and where our fancy took us.
But we got all done, and the middle of March saw us happily on the plane, first to Heathrow, and then on air France to Charles du Gaulle airport. All went well, until, after we had a luke warm coffee to try and get our bearings around the nerve testing streets of Paris, and to try and find the underground, Irma announced that she had lost the paper with the instructions as to how to get to our hotel. We had to get a train to a station called Something  sur Seine, but she couldn't remember the first word. So, not knowing that Paris was littered with all kinds of sur Seines, we found a tube that would take us to Neuilly sur Seine.
 Once there, we had to turn left after leaving the tube station, then pass a small tobacco shop, and voila, we would see our hotel! We turned left, and walked and walked, but there was no sign of any hotel with the name we had.
We then went the other way, and it was hot, hot hot, and my bags were heavy, and after another bally two kilometers, I told Irma that I was going to just plonk down under a tree, and while I watch the bags, she could find the hotel. I waited for ages, and the funny characters that came from nowhere, some of them peeping very suspiciously at the bags, scared the blue devil out of me, and by the time Irma came back, I was thirsty, scared, and angry!
She had not found the hotel, and as an old lady, looking quite friendly passed at that moment, I asked her for directions, and by the most remarkable luck, she understood English, and told us that if we get onto the tube for another few stops, we would get to Asnieres sur Seine, where she knew there was a tobacco shop.
So we dragged ourselves and the luggage back to the tube station that was miles away, and after a few stops, voila, Asnieres sur Seine!
We turned left, and there was the tobacco shop, and scarce two hundred meters further our hotel stood big and looking like the best place ever, although it was only a two star! It was now after six, and we had been in Paris at twelve, so we were lugging around our luggage for more than six hours! I could easily have killed my child, but luckily I was too tired!