Sunday Drive from Paris to Champagne...

We set the alarm for 8 this morning – to have a quick bite of breakfast from the boulangerie and pack before being collected by taxi at 10 for the drive to Gare du Nord.  Our hire-car wasn’t ready when we arrived and we had to wait at the train station for an hour with millions of people rushing around the place – a combination of tourists, gypsy women of all ages who kept asking if we spoke English (we answered “non” which of course told them that we did), revolver-bearing gendarmes and soldiers wearing flack-jackets and machine-guns at the ready! 

But all of that was nothing compared to the chaos that followed as we tried to find our way out of the 6 storey carpark and then made many failed, and finally one successful attempt to leave the city of Paris – not something I ever want to do again!  The only positive from the whole exercise was the discovery that French drivers are still very polite, very patient, very generous, very tolerant, know how to indicate to get on and off roundabouts, keep to the right, don't tailgate etc. I can’t imagine that French tourists visiting Perth would leave with the same impression of our drivers.

The scenery on the drive through the champagne region was spectacular and we finally arrived at our B&B in the fabulous little village of Mareuil-sur-Ay.  We were welcomed by Matthias, the gorgeous young son (mid twenties) of the owners who were away for the day.  Our room is very large, very French, very light, with a beautiful bathroom and French doors (of course) opening onto a huge, beautifully kept garden.  

And the best part of all is Harry – the 1 year-old Jack Russell with personality plus.  We are in love with Harry and it would seem that the feelings are mutual - evidenced in the way he brought a huge deer-leg bone, complete with hoof, into our bedroom inviting us to join him in a game of chasie.

Matthias booked a traditional, French restaurant for us in a nearby village which was very pleasant, but not really our style (especially since more than half of the clientelle were Aussies) and we arrived home at about 11pm – completely exhausted yet again. And I must admit to being overjoyed that we didn’t have internet access and could go straight to bed without writing this blog (since written whilst sitting in the garden on a beautiful sunny afternoon, with a glass of delicious white wine and Harry sitting at our feet).