Who's that smoking a cigarette? A glamorous Frenchwoman in the Zen cafe, Rue de Seine. I smoked a few ciggies too - but they were menthol and that doesn't count. I still have the packet, in fact; Pinky was going to throw it out but I snaffled it. It has a great health warning in giant letters: "Fumer tue" - smoking kills. Yeah, whatever.
Champagne in Les Deux Magots. At the next table, Aurelians discuss alien cloning techniques. Or something.
Our Metro station.
Pinky at Notre Dame de Paris.
Segway! Segway! Everybody Segway! The Segway tour was mega-fun, even better fun than I'd imagined. Everyone should do it.
The journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single step...
Daniella keeps Pinky on the straight and, like, totally narrow.
Concentrate, concentrate.
We passed all our tests! We are good to go!
Too much Segway fun is bad for your health, apparently.
Pausing for thought.
Brmmmm, brmmm ... bonjour Paree!
Happy face is good. To start, press the round metal thingie on the yellow plastic thingie on to the round black thingie on the left. And then just lean forward...
Brrrmmmm, brrmmmmm -- you have to make your own noises; Segway is silent running.
Daniella tells us some history. "So, like, the Vikings were totally harrassing the Pareezhans..."
"Stop stunt-riding! You'll run your batteries down!" Nah, Daniella was way kewl.
Here we are out on the road, waiting for a recycling bin to be emptied.
Another Segway pic.
Pinky en bateau.
French traffic from the top of the Arc de Triomphe. The man in the white coat is a police officer. He wandered out into the traffic blowing his whistle and singled out the car apparently at random. The driver of the little blue car and the bigger car round the corner had previously been stopped and interrogated at length. Note lack of road markings. Scary.
Pere Lachaise cemetery.
Pinky joins other mourners at Oscar Wilde's graveside. People were writing quite elaborate notes. Unfortunately some of the madder fans have kind of ruined it for everyone else - the ugly fence is there to stop people getting lipstick on the angel sculpture (an Epstein, which has famously been castrated - a crabby note posted by the cemetery officials says it's not true that the director keeps the genitals on his desk as a paperweight).
It was a poignant moment for our Pinks.
I like cemeteries, and this one was a doozy. My favourite tomb: dead man suddenly remembers he forgot to turn off the stove.
After Paris we got the train to Bordeaux, where we hired a car and drove out into the gorgeous countryside. We had a pique-nique at this idyllic spot.
Les Eyzies, a lovely riverside town with fabulous cliffs and home to the museum of prehistory.
Conduirant a droite. C'est facile!
The farm we stayed on had a sweeping view of the surrounding hills, valleys and forests. And the chicken run.
Sarlat. I think. Lovely, anyway.
The farm again. It was a great place.
This was in Montignac, yet another lovely little town. We had a delicious lunch, followed by cakes from the local bakery. YUM.
Back in Les Eyzies.
A view of Les Eyzies from the museum, which was a strikingly modern building.
Pinky takes in the view at Les Eyzies.
Le Cro-Mignon! The only French pun I saw, and quite a good one too. Les Eyzies.
Baby geese, soon to become foie gras. We stopped at this farm to buy pate etc, and ended up getting quite a bit of stuff. As the woman was taking my money and bagging my rillettes and walnut oil, Pinky discovered a book of photos of foie gras production. They really do force-feed the geese with funnels. And oh, who would have guessed their innards look like that! I'm ashamed to say I didn't fling my purchases down and demand a refund. We snuck out and drove away, leaving the cute little goslings to their fate.
Umm... chateau en route to Rocamadur. Not sure.
Rocamadur -- Templar stronghold. Also where we noticed the wing mirror/indicator was broken. Spent the rest of the holiday with an 800 euro excess hanging over our heads. Weeks later the car hire firm finally got around to getting it fixed and charged me just under £14.
Lourdes from the church.
The miraculous grotto, where Bernadette had her visions of the virgin. Pinky is at the extreme left, queueing to go in.
Snack break for the faithful at Lourdes.
Tat-tastic at Lourdes.
Pinky checks out the story of Bernadette at a Lourdes gift shop.
People heading for the basilica. Lourdes is a model of wheelchair accessible town planning.
The church at Lourdes.
Biarritz. We have breakfast with Lakme, the French bulldog, who has her own seat at the cafe.
The seafront at Biarritz. It looks chilly but it wasn't, it was balmy.
Biarritz is a surfer town.
I loved Biarritz, I'd like to go back there for a week. Beautiful coastline, nice ambience.
The little cove around the corner from the main beach. Yes, people were swimming in the sea in October.
Pinky and Puppy at the Guggenheim, Bilbao. How we got there and back is a long story - see the next post. Bilbao is in another country.
Inside the Guggenheim. What a fantastic building.
A holographic cube outside the gallery.
The Guggenheim, Bilbao.
The coast between Biarritz and Bordeaux. Two guys are kite-surfing.
We ride the Belle Epoque bus in Bordeaux. A great city.
The Belle Epoque bus, Bordeaux.
After Bordeaux, Paris. After Paris, Oxford. It was raining.
Blenheim Palace.
A little train! Blenheim was fun.
"Take a picture of me cooking on an Aga!" said Pinky. So I did. Our first B&B.
This is for Pinky's friend of the same name.
Our Oxford walking tour was conducted by scatty Ursula, from Chermany. "Vell, that's a werry goot qvestion, and I vill answer it in a few minutes..."
Sisters reunited in Oxford.
Stuffing our faces with an excellent meal at the Loch Fyne Restaurant in Henley on Thames. Thanks very much, Mum!
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