We met at our hotel in the Latin Quarter mid morning. I’d arrived at 6am on my Air France flight from Sydney, and after a bit of a hunt around the streets, found our hotel. Peter and Maryanne flew over from London, where they were living at the time, to spend the weekend in Paris with us. We first went to the Champs-Élysées and ascended the Arc de Triomphe, pictured below. We saw from up there, below on the Champs-Élysées, a parade for the French rugby team with their red and black jerseys and flags, and amazingly, when we were next in Paris in 1999, we saw another parade for the French rugby team at the exact same place. After lunch Jen and I went up the Eiffel Tower while P&M did something else. That evening we had dinner near our hotel in one of the restaurants of the Latin Quarter, but its name is now shrouded by the mists of time. The Parisian romance went on till late in the night, and I remember marvelling at how long I’d been awake, considering I’d not got any sleep on the flight over.

On the Sunday we checked out quite a few of the sights with them, including the Musée d’Orsay, The Louvre, The Notre Damme, and did quite a bit of walking along the Seine, as well as just enjoyed the cafe life.

Peter and Maryanne flew back to London early on Monday morning, while we stayed in Paris and had a look at some more things, including the Pompidou Centre in the afternoon. We had a beer late in the afternoon in the outdoor restaurant by the fountain with all the wacky and surreal water-spurting contrivances. When we were back there 17 years later, we sat at that very same table for lunch.

We caught our train to Venice in the evening of Monday 8th June.

Our hotel in Paris had the teeniest toilet we’ve ever used. It also had a wonderful view of Parisian rooftops, very reminiscent of scenes from Polanski’s ‘Frantic’. It really was a wonderful few days.