So this post is a short one before we catch up on some sleep.
We flew Singapore Airlines and while waiting at Melbourne Airport, I said to Sue, "Look there's some cyclists travelling with us." "How can you tell?" she said. "Look at those legs, hairless and well formed. Now don't get me wrong but fellow cyclists notice these things."
The view from our hotel window in Montparnasse while lying flat on one's back from jet-lag.
After boarding the plane I noticed that they were a little further back in the plane and so I introduced myself.
To my surprise, one of them was Patrick Lane from our own Club. He was on the way to Italy to race with the Jayco team. I met him, his sister and father some 10 years ago when he was maybe 10 or 12 years old.
Success, I mastered the system which was relatively simple but feeling like a sardine in a tin that had not yet been opened, I popped out of the carriage to be greeted with congratulations from Sue. She had reservations that I would get lost, be mugged or wander the Metro system for the rest of our time here.
We chose a restaurant within a short walking distance, called Montparnasse 1900. It had a beautifully decorated interior and offered perfect service from its staff.
For me Bretagne Oysters, for Sue, Onion soup gratine for an entree. We seem to agree on the main course though. Back in 2006 we had our first Confit de Canard (duck preserved in its own fat), and this time was no exception. We ordered the same again.
The wine was a red from the Lot district of France, very much like an Australian wine, a full bodied red labelled Buzit.
The Next Morning:
And for breakfast, a traditional petit de jeuner.
Something that I don't need to concern myself with for 3 weeks.