Please dont hang your bras out of the window
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Please dont hang your bras out of the window
February 2002<BR><BR>I have been to Paris many times.<BR><BR>There was that very first trip, 12 years old, with my family, trying to explain that 1 year studying French in school meant I could order food, ask for directions and buy tickets at the station, not hold comprehensive conversations with every Parisian I met. But it was fun and we had a great time.<BR><BR>There were the 6 months of weekend visits with my best friend from high school, we went to France as au pairs, in towns outside of Paris, and met up, with our limited financial resources, every weekend. We got to know the Clignancourt flea markets, the restaurants of the 5th arrondissement and the Grande Arche area pretty well
<BR><BR>Then there were trips introducing friends, shorter weekend trips, trips with hubby introducing him to a decent steak and goats cheese salad, trips with sister exploring the clothes paradise/ hell of Lafayette.<BR><BR>But this was a first.<BR><BR>My husband Pete and I taking a shy, 13 year old girl, who had seldom travelled out of the UK on her first trip to Paris. Rosie is our niece, she is a lovely girl, intelligent, sweet and witty, without the rebellious moodiness of many teenagers, and without the desperate addiction to branded clothes and celebrity adoration. We told her about the trip on Christmas day, her presents were an empty box with a voucher in (which I printed) telling her about the trip, and then a guidebook and a history book about Paris. So how did it go?<BR><BR>To my eternal shame we didnt get to Angelinas or Berthillons! But we did have a great time, we did eat well, and we did show her a few of the main sights. And most importantly of all, I believe we started her on the path of the joyous traveller. She says she hopes to visit many more countries, see many more cities, try many more unusual dishes and stay in more funky little hotels
I think shes hooked!<BR><BR>Heres the report:<BR><BR><BR>