Close up

Rules seem to have been relaxed a lot in museums - no-one seems to mind photos now, and even flash doesn't seem shouted at nearly as much as I remember.  Here we are in the Orangerie looking at the Monet rooms - very impressive - and I can't understand why I haven't been before.  A lurker is getting in for a close up view.

Earlier, one team member left early for her next party, and two folk headed off foraging for breakfast - resulting in an extraordinary pink studded soft-centred brioche called a praluline (I think).  Very delicious - but definitely to be eaten in small portions.

Off then across town for a cultural interlude in all the eating.  Really a very impressive gallery; I was particularly taken with the white muslin (?) sheeting over the ceiling which allowed a wonderfully diffuse light which is perfect for these paintings.

Lunch then on a street packed to the rafters with greengrocers, butchers, fishmongers and brasseries - and all open on a Sunday morning.  Then off to collect our bags so the others could go to get their train and I could go (early) to Orly for my flight - knowing that the air traffic control strike could give me some delays...

Yep.  Some delays.  When I arrived at the airport, my flight was still due to go.  Given that I was 3 hours early and there was no lounge to go to, there seemed no harm in being in the queue to see if I could change to an earlier (not cancelled) flight to Toulouse.  Good job really as - after about 30 minutes in the queue - my flight was cancelled.  And so was the earlier one.  Long story short, AirFrance will probably not have the pleasure of my company again.  I am just rather grateful that I have the benefit of a credit card to buy my way out of discomfort.  The students crying at the thought of a night on the airport floor were not so lucky.  Air France, it seems, don't find you a hotel, but expect you to find one and then - if you meet all the conditions - will reimburse you.  So if you've no cash - tough.

Meanwhile, the rest of the gang turned out to have train tickets for tomorrow and not today (not their fault) so were also throwing money at the problem.

With very shaky internet due to dull phone issues, I had to rely on Mr B to find me a hotel, handy for my hopeful flight tomorrow afternoon from CDG.  Then back on the train to said hotel, room service and collapse.  Well that was the plan.  And was the actuality, but not in the way I intended.  Turns out that when you order a 'medium' burger you should specify that 'raw' is not what you mean.  And if 'raw' arrives, don't eat it no matter how famished you are.  (Blipping this on Tuesday, the effects of that greedy decision are still with me... It was Steak Tartare that did for me on my last-but-one trip to Paris, you'd think I'd have learnt...)

Anyway, none of that takes away from a fine weekend with the best of folk.  Our plans for the next one got ever more ambitious through the weekend...