Sacré-Coeur

I woke up this morning and realised that I must have been drunker than I'd thought last night, as I couldn't remember cleaning my teeth, or going to bed. The hangover was also a clue.

Meg headed to work, but before I could manage to get out of bed she was back, as it turned out that her office were taking the day off but had neglected to tell her. Bad, as she made the trip across town, but also exceedingly good as I now had a buddy to go about Paris with.

Upon my touristy request we walked north to the Sacré-Coeur, through the streets of Montmartre. Loved it - the feel of the whole place was alive, with everyone walking about - the lack of cars made a big difference, and the fact that it's on a hill above the city adds to the effect. We stopped for a coffee briefly, watching the passing people traffic, before heading onwards and upwards.

We realised upon getting to the Sacré-Coeur itself that we'd come on Good Friday. There was a massive precession of worshippers coming up the main steps to the basilica, with the internal service broadcast on loudspeaker to the incoming crowd. Upon some unheard signal - or perhaps it was in latin - they would all simultaneously kneel and pray, before getting up and resuming the slow plod up the hill.

We retreated away from this touristy mecca, and found a small park behind the basilica to rest and soak up the sun. Oddly enough, there was a small group of people taking hundreds of shots of people holding iPhones in the dappled shade. We figured it was for a future marketing campaign - it looked pretty professonal, though I've no idea.

The streets around Montmartre are great for exploring. Winding and narrow, once you're off the main square they're also almost completely empty. The sun danced though the budding branches of trees, casting complex patterns over the cobbled ground.

This guy was hanging out at the back door to a hotel. I think yesterday's visit to the Joel Meyerowitz exhibition clearly had an impact...

Once back, we met up with the others at Phoebe's flat for some drinks before heading out to see TEED play in a club called 'Social Club'. I love TEED's music, but it has to be said, his DJ set was a bit pants.

However, the way home from the club was amazing. Drunk, and unwilling to walk, Meg and I decided to go two-up on one of the Velib/borris bikes to cycle home. Meg sat on the handlebars, facing me, who peddled. We flew through the deserted night streets of Paris, past sights like the Louvre and Notre Dam in something that wouldn't look out of place in a film. We arrived home so soon that we continued on, to the Jardin du Luxemborug, and back down the hill to Megs flat.
Just as we whizzed down the road, front door and velib docking station in sight, a police car shot round the corner, towards us, full brakes and drunkenness doing nothing to help slow our collision course slam into the side of the police car - Meg over the handlebars, me sprawling onto the floor, bike sideways and wheels spinning.
The policemen got out, and had a go at us for being idiots, while we professed that we were not smashed and that the brakes were the fault, and that we had no idea that the bikes were not designed for two people. Still, they let us go, and we trotted into the flat, trying not to laugh to loud.