The next morning (Sunday), after drinking a considerable amount of fairly respectable vino,(as already detailed earlier), I awoke with a mouth like Gandis slipper, a banging headache , and a very dry mouth.
After much deliberation, (well a few seconds ) we decided that we would go the flea market at Clignancourt, which apparently is fuck off huge, then go to the fair afterwards http://www.foiredutrone.com/ ( which was also fuck off huge!), then see how the mood took us.
It didn’t take us very far as it was pissing down with rain and very very cold! Nevertheless , we had a PLAN, and by billyo gum we were going to stick to it.
So donning our newly purchased (the day before in a store called Tati for 5 euros each) cagooles, we sullied forth for some flea marketing bargaining.
When we arrived it wasn’t quite as big as we thought it would be, but we were there ( so we thought) and Mrs Dog had euros to burn.
Fortunateley for me and my soon to be pillaged pocket, apart from a natty handbag, there wasn’t really that much there.
It was about now that I started to wonder if in fact we were at the right flea market, as I have been to bigger car boot sales (and better).
English abroad.. huh!
The real market was just down the road and was facking ginormous!! It was almost like a suburb on its own, shops and stalls everywhere, a shoppers paradise.
Mrs. Dog started to frenzy, a frightening sight for all concerned!
Happily for the now deeply trousered euros in my pocket , because it was so cold ,we didn’t really run amok.
Then we got to the antiques area. Now there was some special stuff there, but again, the frenzy now having passed, we just had a look round.
After about an hour we decided to brave the local cafe scene and have some brekkie and a cup of coffee. Ouch. Croque monsieur x 2 (cheese on toast with ham),and 2 cups of cafe au lait was not far off 20euros. (thats about 14 quid!…facking hell!!)
Revitalised we then moved on to the fair, which was a ride on the metro away. At least that was warm and dry.
No fucker told me that Paris was in the midst of a rainstorm comparable to a tropical storm except it was bleeding cold! When we got off the metro we nearly came back home because it was that bad!
Water Water everywhere.. and wet french people!
There was rain aplenty, so much so that the rides were pretty much empty, which ordinarilly would have been great, but due to the by now storm force 10 rain, meant that any serious attemp at fairground surfing would have meant suicide by drowning.( besides which ,some of those rides were fuck off scary, and after a skinfull of french vino, croque monsieur, and coffee, the last thing I wanted to do was barf it up all over some poor unfortunate gallic waif).
However Mrs. Dogs sweet tooth prevailed and we bought a sort of twizzle sweet which was made in front of our very own eyes. It was very very sweet, and the old growler really loved it.
When we could no longer take the rain and cold we thought "oh bollox, lets go back to Les Invalides, at least it will be dry", so that exactly what we did.
That is some serious place. It contains Napoleons tomb for a start off, plus loads of other fantastic statues, and pictures. We ended up stayinfg for much longer than we expected, so were late getting back to the hotel.
Being a good catholic boy, I had promised me poor old mum, that I would light a candle for her in Sacre Coeur or Notre Dame, and seeing as how we wanted to go and have some nosh in St. Germain du Pres, we thought Notre Dame would be a good bet, and we wolud see if Quasimodo was at home.
He wasn’t and it was shut when we got there about 9.00pm.
That meant a return journey on the morrow, so callling a day on our eclesiastical travels, we headed of to St Germain for a nose bag.
Only we didn’t.
Mr. I know my way around Paris, got completely lost and we ended up back in Pigalle at about 11.30pm.
Mrs. Dog was almost fainting from lack of Winalot, I was completely fucked off because the night was spolt and we ended up in a very nice eatery that let us in at 11.45pm!
I have never eaten a 3 course meal with wine and coffee, so bleeding quick!
But it was nice, warm and quite filling so Mrs. Dog was once again a happy bunny, though exhausted.
Peace and harmony was restored at Dog Towers.
Time to call it a night, so once again with an unerring sense of direction we walked around for 1hr to get back to the hotel, which was in fact only 5 mins walk away!
Twat…me that is.
Time to call it a night, so thats what we did, amongst other things
At least the bed was comfy that night