I was one thankful woman when at last I could drop the heavy bags on the floor, and drop myself onto the bed, just to lie and try to get some strength back. I was completely knackered!
But I was also hungry, so after about an hour of just lying like an old limp rag, I had a shower, and felt a lot better for it. Irma, of course many years younger than her poor mum, was up and about, and waiting impatiently for me to recover enough to take the town by storm. Ha-ha! But we were in Paris, and the night was warm, and the streets were alive with all kinds of people on the look-out for fun, and it wasn't long before the jolly mood of the crowds had it's effect on me, and I was ready to assist Irma in having some fun.
But by about ten, after a lovely meal, and another ice bally cold coffee, we called it a day. I just do not know what it was with the french, but both the two coffees I had so far was cold, and when I tried to explain the fact that I hated cold coffee to the waiter, he either did not understood what I said, or he faked stupidity!
We both slept like logs, and after breakfast the next morning we took on the city of Paris. We were obviously in the midst of the touristy season, although we thought that it was still too early for that, and getting into any of the places we wanted to see,was well nigh impossible. After standing for about three hours in a queue for the Eiffel Tower, we called it a day and decided to go to the Louvre . We were quite staggered when we saw the half a kilometer queue of humans waiting patiently for a turn, and as we had already wasted almost a whole day, we bought a wonderful filled bagette, and sat on the grass in a park, where a lot of other tourists were also enjoying a take away lunch.
After another cold coffee I became so disgusted with the French that I vowed to only drink wine for the rest of the time, as, when I asked for tea, the waiter's face crumpled up in disgust, and his eyes started watering from pure disbelieve!
Then, oh wonderful sight, I saw a Macdonalds! I am not a Macdonalds fan, although I like their Macmuffins, but their coffee in South Africa is super! Irma is also a coffee-holic, and although she hated Macdonalds, her on;ly eating organic foods at home, she also pined for a decent cuppa! To cross the road to reach our goal was almost like trying to commit suicide, as the French drivers have the same attitude as the Greeks, and that is to disregard any road signs, and keep their feet flat on the gas!
But it was worth having been almost killed about ten times, and being out of breath from trying to sprint out of the roaring cars's way, as the coffee was hot, and delicious, and we sank onto a bunk, and savoured the beautiful hot stuff! needless to say, whereever we went from then on, I kept my eyes open for the macdonalds sign!