Northern Hemisphere 2006 - Part 2 - Paris
After coffees and flight comparisons Noni and I headed off on the train to Paris to meet Mr Huppatz in Monmartre. We could only have been described as an excited pair, taking the train past the graffiti and odd named stations, down to Gare de Nord. We walked on past some shops selling... yes... berets, and had to test our French here. We both bought rather smart berets, and walked through a fairly decrepit suburb down to Boulevard Rochechouart in search of Hotel Regent.

I was so impressed with the cycle lanes, plants, metro stops and pedestrian lanes taking up most of the space on this street, oh yes, there was a small lane for the cars too. We checked in to the hotel and saw Michael coming down the street with bread and chicken!

Since we were in Monmartre we wandered up to Sacre Coeur, one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen. The approach to it up a lovely grassy slope, with colour and character all around, cheeky kids, Africans trying to sell coloured bands of material which I had to buy... why??!

Anyway it was wrapped around my wrist and never left me for the duration of the trip - I made the most of that ripoff. On the way up to the church we were in good spirits. Inside, we were calmed by the pure size and grandeur of this space. It is designed with a great dome overhead, and smaller representations of the main space at the rear and sides. Whispering all through the cathedral was a surreal echoing sound, and there was so much light from candles in the corners of the cathedrals, dedicated to different saints.

For Australians who have had Christianity of all flavours thrust upon them, this was the real thing, a monument to faith, much older even than Christianity in Australia, and a sobering treasure for us to experience.

Michael and I walked later past the Moulin Rouge, past the seedy neon, and past bars and cafes so casual, with dogs going wherever their masters do, seated by their table patiently. People smoked, generally, and it made sense. It fit the scene, the nonchalance and dark style of Monmartre.

Venturing out for dinner we dodged rain on our way to a restaurant with large menu, much of it traditional cuisine, with beacoup de vin and MTV playing which seemed to be quite common there. L'escargots were delicious! Table wines in France are much lighter and perhaps more bitter than Australian equivalents, but no wine on my journey was as bad as the house red on KLM airlines. Avoid Dona Dominga red at all cost...

After dinner we took our full bellies to the Karaoke bar where I discovered Desperados beer, which reportedly had tequila in, but tasted like green ginger wine. Our bar was generally locals, singing French numbers, with a few shy tourists (unlike our brazen selves.)

The songs chosen were generally haughty ballads, french bluesy pop or traditional songs by Ms Edith Piaf. The latter I definitely preferred, and we were treated to a rousing version of Padam, Padam, Padam - her nickname for Paris. From the selection I picked a track and was assisted in the "shake it like a polaroid picture" section by an enthusiastic local dude with spiky blond hair, shakin' it, adding to my song cred, and we got most people shakin it in the house!

Noni selected a dark horse - Cher's Dark Lady, which was a lesser known hit for the songstress, and she sang quite a good version too, though the Frenchies didn't know the tune from Adam. We were all ready for Michael and Noni to sing Summer Lovin' but they were not willing to give us many songs. Surprising, because the Desperados had been thrown down our necks all night!