Final Night in Paris

Mum and I went shopping at the grocery next door. It's the equivalent of the Tardis from Doctor Who where it looks small from the outside, but the inside goes on forever. We also had to call at the really nice bakery across the road that sells croissants and brioche. Then we headed off on the train after brekkie, but we had trouble finding our way because, not only was the internet fluctuating from working and not working, the Citymapper app gave us incorrect info. We set our starting location as Odéon but the app gave us information using a completely different metro station as the start. To top it off, the metro line we were given may have been substituted for buses (I'm not sure, it was all French to me). We walked quite a way, after all the hassle of the Metro, through Parisian backstreets. On the way, we saw dozens of pigeons which reminded me of Mum's French (pidgin). We joined a very long queue at the Musée d'Orsay, much to Dad's protests. As we got towards the front of the queue, a staff member said this was the queue for prepaid tickets. Dad nearly fainted when we saw the longer line for those with no tickets, so we decided to opt out. We later discovered there was a new Picasso exhibition. This was the first weekend it was open and even the Parisians want to see it. While waiting we were constantly approached by beggars and gypsies with petitions they wanted us to sign. We encountered this method of trying to con tourists yesterday near the Eiffel Tower. Yesterday it was for deaf kids and today's ruse was for invalids. We've heard the gypsies distract tourists and pick their pockets or claim they signed and agreed to pay an amount in euros and then demand they pay up.

We walked along the River Seine for a while before wandering into the Jardin des Tuileries Grand Courvert. The gardens have many statues and water features and was built in 1561. There was a palace on the site transformed by King Louis XIV. It was set on fire in 1871. We stopped and had a drink at a cafe in the gardens. By then it was starting to get drizzly and overcast. There were many more of those annoying scammers trying to get signatures for their "petitions". Dad said "The next time one of them goes up to me I'm gonna rip up their petition sheet". We walked over to the Louvre which also had more lines. Yet another gallery for us not to visit. We were satisfied with taking photos of the great glass pyramid and the statue of King George V in front. We took a stroll back to the train and went to our favourite cafe next door, Paul. We bought baguettes (which are what the French simply call sandwiches) as well as a chocolate eclaire for Mum, a cherry tart for the old fart (sorry, Mum's joke) Dad and a chocolate tart for me.

For dinner, we went to Comptoir Atlas, a restaurant two doors down from where we were staying. For entrée, I had hard boiled eggs, Mum had a real French onion soup, and Dad had oysters and sashimi. We kept comparing him to Mr. Bean when he ordered oysters that turned out to be off. I had a very delicious croque monsieur for my main, while Mum had a nicoise salad and Dad got to see his sea bass (and, of course, eat it). Finally, we took one final trip to Amorino (possibly the best ice cream parlour in France).