Paris

Sometime before Christmas, Dad mentioned that he’d never been on Eurostar. As a present, I said I’d arrange a trip for us all, and we agreed it would need to happen once the weather started to warm up. Today, we set off for Paris.

I did not want any rushing around, early starts, or late nights on the trip. So, we didn’t leave home until 10:30 am, and that might have been a bit too early as a bus appeared quickly and dropped us off at Wimbledon Chase with about 25 minutes to wait for the train. I doubted my belief that the weather would be warm at this time of year as we sat on the platform in a shelter that provided a little respite from the chill wind blowing around us.

The journey to St Pancras was easy. I noticed Mum and Dad nodded off for a short time, which made me pleased we’d picked this route. The train wasn’t packed, and it was a leisurely ride. 

At St Pancras, we quickly got through the check-in, security, and passport control despite the tickets not scanning correctly. The person on duty after bag screening allowed us to go through manual passport checks, which were much easier than the machines. The lounge was standing room only, with two trains to Paris and one to Brussels on the departure board. We had to wait until the 12:31 train was called for seats to free up. Eventually, we managed to get four seats together. I bought a couple of coffees.

Although boarding Eurostar can be a scrum-like experience, it was pretty easy today. I think that was helped because we were in carriage one, which is at the back of the train formation on this leg. There wasn’t much of a crush, but it was a long walk once we arrived at Gare du Nord. 

The onboard service was lovely. We had a table for the four of us. The Eurostar Plus lunch service came with wine, which we all appreciated. I think only PY managed to avoid nodding off at some point on the way. 

After the long walk on arrival, I considered an Uber, but I recall that when I used to visit for work, getting an Uber at Gare du Nord was a bit of a race around the streets while the drivers found a place to stop. Instead, we joined the taxi queue, which was quite long but moved at a decent pace, and we were soon in a friendly people carrier that dropped us at the hotel. Fortunately, Dad had brought a stack of euros as the taxi claimed to have no card reader, and I’d never considered they wouldn’t.

Check-in was easy, although I continue to wonder why it takes so long when the hotel already has all my details. The rooms were across a small courtyard from the front of the hotel. It was raining when we arrived, and the polished flagstones were a bit slippery, but nobody came to any harm. As I’d advised everybody, the rooms were small. We were in an area near the Arc de Triomphe, so I don’t think there are many spacious hotels. 

After settling in, we walked to the restaurant we’d booked. There was a drizzle, but it wasn’t too bad. We walked past many Parisian-looking restaurants with red canopies and outdoor tables, which seemed quite stereotypical. Our chosen restaurant, Le Bistro de Longchamp, looked considerably more basic. My initial concerns quickly faded as the food was superb and the atmosphere was great: this seemed much more like a place locals ate than tourists. The Portuguese food was quite different. Sadly, I think Mum got over-faced by the size of the chicken she was presented with. 

PY pointed out that the Eiffel Tower would be visible from the end of the next street. So, before returning to the hotel for the evening, we walked to see the Tower from the ‎⁨Jardins du Trocadéro⁩ and managed to catch it as the hourly light show began at 10 pm.