Firstly, I know I said that the Armchair Tours of Paris would start next but Mother’s Day (the Aussie version) falls on Sunday 12th, which is tomorrow, so you’ll have to wait a little longer. C’est la vie.
In thinking about how I would roast honour my lovely Mum this year, I was taken back to my very first visit to Paris…with Mum. We’d been away for 5 weeks and Paris was the final few days of our continental grand tour. We were tired and non-French-speaking so we had a few multitude of silly moments together in the City of Lights. (A rather ridiculous session of charades with a patient shopkeeper in an effort to get directions to the nearest cash point springs to mind.)
And I took what seemed like a squillion photos then too (which, in the pre-digital age, cost me an absolute fortune to have developed). Mum took more.
It is well-known in our family that Mum is a little…well snap-happy.
And this has been borne out over the years as her wanderlust has expanded to take in places like the USA and Canada, and adventures like a snowstorm in Petra, a cruise on the Nile and a whole lot in between.
I know this for a fact. I’ve been back to Melbourne. I’ve seen the evidence photo albums.
Anyway, I had been wondering whether I had kept any photos of her from our inaugural parlay with Paris…and you’re in luck (Mum maybe not so much…) So here’s how much things have really changed.
There was our bird’s eye view from the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower on the night of our arrival in 2000…
…while this time my opening night perspective was a little more grounded from the Place de la Concorde.
Being new to the whole travelling lark, we were fascinated by the public loos in the streets of Paris. There was some consternation about what would happen if you got stuck in there. Mum was relieved in more ways than one when the door opened……while this time around I was just relieved my loo with a view came with no windows directly opposite.
This was a rare moment of still and quiet contemplation for Mum near the Jardin des Tuileries……whilst last Sunday I found mine – with a good book in hand – on the way from Raspail to the Jardin du Luxembourg.
And finally there was Mum’s first espresso on a cafe terrace overlooking the Place de la Concorde (she succumbed my
nagging sound advice after five days of having moaned about Paris’ horrible and expensive cappuccinos)…
…whilst not too far away, on a grey afternoon more than 12 years later, I found heavenly, chocolate-y solace – and a coffee – at Angelina.
Such great, great memories!
Happy Mothers Day Mum!