Started the day with breakfast in a cafe by the Seine next to Notre Dame. Then a walk via the Pompidou Centre to the restaurant for a 12.30 start.
Laura at Ellsworth Restaurant did a fabulous job of laying a lunch on for us. I doubt I will ever throw a private party in a restaurant in Paris and this was just perfect:
I got spectacularly drunk in Place Vendome on Sunday, only just remembered to park the car in the booked parking and got back to the digs to change for dinner at the time we were supposed to be sitting down. Felt I had rather let Dot down as I was supposed to escort her to dinner. I hope being escorted to lunch here was some compensation.
Novel interface for bread bags and balding men found.
Toasts were drunk to Michael and Bruce, the missing fathers, the restaurant and Geen Remmen who carried us all that way.
Eiffel Tower lit up in mourning for those lost in terrorist attacks. The real world was catching up with us.
Crashed out on the Eurostar shuttle.
Geen comes to rest finally, was just clearing out the bags when I discovered (eventually) that Adam, my son, had posted my mobile under my seat. This involved forty minutes of wriggling around under the car getting the seat unbolted. No idea why he’s looking so cheerful in this photo, if I had had the energy I would have strangled him.