Thursday, June 29, 2006

Commemorating Paris

It's been a week since I flew back from London. My body is still in London/Paris timezone. As a result, my biorhythm is completely out of whack - waking up in the middle of the night, famished and craving for food.

My bedroom looks completely alien whenever I wake up at night to toss and turn, I keep thinking I'm sleeping on my hotel bed in my Paris. And when I do wake up, I keep expecting to see this outside. ---> View from my hotel room in Montmartre, Paris.

However, Mr. J loves my temporary nocturnal routine as that translates to food and company while watching the World Cup match. We'd head out to the mamak before the match to take-away roti canai, tandoori & naan, iced Milo (for me) and teh tarik (for him).

The only reason I watch the match is because it's utterly boring. Really, watching a group of determined men dashing madly after a ball is the only thing that lulls me back to sleep.

Yesterday morning, while watching the France-Spain match, he lightly traced a sort of alphabet 'A' on my right shoulder.

'Hey, why don't you get a mini Eiffel Tower tatt? With a little heart by the side.'

'What?! You're joking, right?' spluttering on my dhal & thosai.

'I don't know, something to remember your trip by. Since you love Paris so much and the french simply adore you. Hmmm, why not?' nuzzling my right shoulder.

'Ssh... concentrate on the match. Look, goal! Goal!' I whooped excitedly while I, myself don't understand a single football move.

Yeah, it's his little trick, taking advantage of my post-holiday euphoric mood to pursuade me to get a tattoo. Just because he has one on his right upper arm, that doesn't mean I should go get one.

I'm too fickled- my taste evolves every moment. What if suddenly I don't like the tatt on my shoulder? Then, what? Go spend a thousand ringgit laser-erasing it off? Er, thanks but no thanks.

A tattoo is definitely out of the question. But I've got heaps of memories etched in my mind and I'm in the midst of putting together a travel scrap-book.

Now, that's MY way of commemorating a fabulous trip.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Bonjour from Nice!

Bonjour, it's my last leg of my France trip. So far, it's been a great learning experience.

Tip 1 - Best to go with the flow to minimise any disappointments or let-downs.
Whatever I've planned to do or hope to see were riddled with hiccups and major disappointments.

Tip 2 - Organise, organise and organise! And keep a sort-of daily routine, - wake-up time, sleeping time, so you won't end up grumpily tired at the next day.

Tip 3 - When tired, don't force oneself to do the real "touristy" sightseeing. I was dead tired on my daytrip to Nimes, that I took the wrong train all the way to Lyon instead of back to my hotel in Avignon. I got on the wrong side of the platform and ended up in the wrong train. Luckily, there were some kind frenchpeople who showed me back to the right train back to Avignon. But I only got back to the hotel at 11pm when I had planned to get back at 7.30pm. Time wasted when you made silly mishaps just because you were dead tired.

Tip 4- Do spend a bit more and take the hop-on tourist bus or train as your feet will thank you for it! Also, it's the breeziest and safest way to see the city. And a great way to snap those gorgeous, scenic shots. Right, now, I'm still nursing massive toe blisters after I stubbornly refused to take the hop-on tourist bus during my week-long stay in Paris.

Tip 5- Tell the bloody persistent frenchman that your hubby is waiting for you at the hotel and wear a ring on your left 4th finger. Or just say, "PODAH!", like I did once. Heheh.

A bientot!

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Bonjour!

Bonjour from Paris!

Did massive, massive art-gazing, a bit sick of art galleries and museum right now. Have never spoken so much French in my life. French people are warm & friendly only AFTER I speak French. So much formalities here- ie. When you enter a shop, you'd have to greet the salesperson/cashier 'Bonjour' and say 'Au revoir' before stepping out.

Frenchmen are the best looking lot in this world. Without fail, every morning in the Metro train, I'd spot a handsome Frenchman. Heh. Imagine, not once, I thought about Mr. J. He sounded a bit disappointed when he called me a few days ago.

Still, they can be a persistent lot. Got hassled everday. Some would slow down their cars/bikes to greet me - Bonjour, ca va? Tout va bien? in the hopes of getting a favourable response from me. Still, I'm in foreign land, so they'd get a cool response from me - haha.

All in all, it's been good. Getting off here. Internet usage clock counting down in the last 3 minutes. ;)