Post Parisian Holiday Blues
- 10 Aug 07, 11:24 AM
Forgive me readers for I have sinned. It has been one month since my last blog. The reason, of course, is that I have been on holiday. But while I’m in a confessional mood I should come clean and admit that I’ve actually been back now for over a week. The problem is I’ve been just too damned depressed to do anything about it. I think this must be ‘blogger’s block’! I haven’t written anything, haven’t gone anywhere – for goodness sake I only finished unpacking my case last night! And that’s the whole problem with holidays. They’re fantastic to look forward to, even better when you’re actually on them, but just awful once they’re over.
I suppose in some ways you could compare it to eating a family size bag of Revels. You carefully plan that sofa moment, relish each of the sweets (except for the orange ones) as you’re stuffing them in, but then you feel really sick when the bag’s finished ….and you’ve consumed thousands of needless calories into the bargain. Mind you, at least you don’t end up with a ton of dirty washing and a credit card bill the length of the Mississippi. That’s because my favourite phrase when I’m away, whether it’s ordering coffees at a fiver a go or drinking pink champagne in the afternoon, is “sure I’m on my holidays!” Of course it was worth it in every way and my love affair with Paris grows deeper every day.
It’s a bit like that old song ‘How you gonna keep ‘em down on the farm, now that they’ve seen Paris.’ In the last month I’ve admired the Mona Lisa, wept at Edith Piaf’s grave, stood in awe in Marie Antoinette’s bedroom, spent late nights in smoky jazz clubs and early mornings watching the sun rise over the seine. Whatever time of the day or night I’ll never get tired looking at the Eiffel Tower, or fail to gasp when the Sacre Coeur comes into view. Like Cole Porter “I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles” and I had one unforgettable, ridiculously romantic afternoon with my beloved in the Bois de Vincennes watching Randy Crawford sing as part of the Paris jazz festival.
Now do you see why I’ve been down in the dumps this week!
If you’ve already had your holidays then you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about, and if you haven’t……you are so lucky!
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Yes we had a fantastic time in Paris this summer too.
However we visited the Champs Elysees on a Sunday when the shops were closed. So my wife cried outside the Louis Vuitton shop rather than Edith Piaf's grave!
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Dear Dalek...thank your lucky stars it wasn't open or you'd both have been weeping when you got the bill!
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