Christmas in the city of light

A couple of days before Christmas we jumped on a train bound for Paris.

I'm almost tempted to just let the photos do the talking, but I had a slight camera problem so couldn't use the viewfinder which, for me, is kind of like rock-climbing with one hand tied behind your back.


Regardless, no amount of fancy camera equipment could possibly capture the sublime light as we approached Paris through dusky, wintry countryside with a blushing full moon on the horizon.




I'd stayed at the Oz Embassy in Paris when I was about twelve, and have memories of the proximity of the embassy building to the Eiffel Tower but, as Heaney says, the past is another country, so it was with fresh eyes that I copped the view from our Dear Aussie Hosts' lounge and kitchen windows.

'Hideous!' I shrieked. 'Shut the curtains now! Vite, vite!'

OK, that was me trying to be funny; it really was stupendous.

It took us four days of juggling kids with colds, and much fortifying cheese and baguette consumption to reach the tower, but we did manage it - just the Hausfrau and DH - on our last night in Paris.

By this stage it was night, the weather had changed, and we were swathed in mist. But this didn't deter us, and somehow the floodlights and fog forced our attention to the tower itself and the feat of engineering that brought about its existence.





















Here is the view from the top:



Not as I'd anticipated, but then life never is.