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Paris Day One
10th April 2009
We arrived in Paris and set off to met the lady who we'd booked our apartment through. I had seen on the website that her languages were French and Spanish, but I'd assumed that she'd probably be able to speak a little bit of English. How wrong I was. She spoke less English than we spoke French. She'd written down the cost and everything for us, we parted with our cash, and she still tried to communicate something with us. She eventually decided to lead us down to the 1st floor, knocked on a door, and then got some guy to translate for her. Great idea. The apartment was really nice, on the 4th floor, with the smallest, most dodgy looking elevator in the world. I found that if you open the doors during flight, the thing stops. I stopped between the third and forth floors once. Shut the door and off you go again!! The flat was only small, but it had a kitchen and a bathroom, and a futon and a washing machine. There were also pretty fairy lights strung all over the little flat. Cute. Joey - you would've loved it.
We dropped our bags off and thought that we'd fill the afternoon in with a trip to a local cemetery. We jumped on the nearby metro, and went a few stops along to the Pere Lachaise cemetery. We grabbed a map of the incredibly huge place and planned our visit. First stop was James Morrisons grave. We followed the graffiti left by adoring fans and found ourselves at a dilapidated grave. Dan took some snaps, and was satisfied because, in Australia before leaving, the only thing he'd told me we had to do whilst overseas was see Jim Morrisons grave. Right, that's done, we can come home now. From Jim we then went to see Chopin, and braved the tiny flying bugs up to Oscar Wilde's grave. His headstone is more eccentric than he ever was. It was a weird sculpture kind of thing, but the whole thing was covered in lipstick kisses. Apparently it was a new tombstone, because some crazed woman stole the penis of the previous monument. Bizarre. We found some massive family crypts, and also some funny ones. I had a giggle when I saw Homer buried next to Gervais. I had a smile also when I found that Peter Andre had died. We found a cemetery cat, and a group of cops on patrol throughout the cemetery. It had started to rain, so we jumped on the metro back home.
A quick stock up at the supermarket and we had coca for the fridge and ingredients for Spag Bol. Dinner was lovely, and I went straight to sleep on the wonky futon.
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