Mark and Lorna’s Tour de France

These are interesting times in France with the elections, the Olympics and the Tour de France just around the corner.

So we were excited to be crossing the country by rail, bus, car and foot – the Tour itself being a key stop on our journey.

Our trip is one of two halves. Pre-Tour de France and post. Actually it’s one of four quarters: traveling across France, holidaying in the South of France, the Alps for the Tour de France, then Italy. It’s been a bit busy thus far, so this is the first chance I’ve had to write.

We’d never been on Eurostar before, so it was fun to get on the train from ‘St Pancreas’ after emerging from the bowels of the city via the tube (see what I did there?)

Lorna was pleasantly surprised that we weren’t going to be in a dark tunnel all the way to the Paris …

When we got to Paris Gare du Nord, I was convinced this was the subject of a Monet painting – so I made a fool of myself for a photo op – only to find out it was a different station that he painted.

Moving on …

We hit the Parisian heat and hauled our bags up to the Pantheon where our hotel was situated.

And when we got there we were delighted to find the hotel had a beautiful view and an interesting history.

Loosely translated this means that a hundred years ago Andre Breton stayed here. He was the godfather of surrealism – which, as Lorna will tell you is the b******s Harry and I talk most nights. Without Breton – no Salvador Dali. Sort of.

We, of course, then had to hit the Louvre, via a pint of Guinness in an Irish bar on the Seine.

Suitably refreshed we made our way to the Mona Lisa. I won’t bore you with my thoughts on this painting, except to say this: she exudes confidence. And why wouldn’t she? Ten million people visit her every year – TEN THOUSAND THOUSAND PEOPLE – twice as many as the whole Taylor Swift Eras Tour – every year … for ever …

That evening, having asked A.I. for a recommendation for an authentic Parisian restaurant, we had dinner in a little old restaurant in the shadow of Notre Dame. This was an absolute joy. Once the head waiter had sung our welcome, I was invited to descend into a cold, dark musty wine cellar to choose a bottle of vino. And what a bottle! I didn’t think this much authenticity was still accessible to the average tourist, but that night we felt we’d crept under the very skin of Paris.

Onwards via kissing trains to Lyon …

… our next stop was a converted convent in Lyon. At this point Lorna was starting to think I’d brought her on a pilgrimage rather than a holiday … why on earth would she think that? OK, the hotel reception was once a chapel, but apart from that, and the cloisters, and the crosses at every archway … what did the Romans ever do for us?

Onwards to Avignon, where I didn’t have the confidence (or stupidity) to get my England flag out for the game against Slovenia, so this is as much exposure as it got.

And then the Papal palace, Lorna now getting seriously concerned about the emerging religious theme …

Bouncing on from Lyon, we headed for Aix – after a wrong turn on the way to Monaco. What a stroke of luck! What a beautiful place. And by this point I was starting to pick up the colour theme of Provence – pistachio, terra cotta and yellow/ochre – man alive what taste these people have.

And then, as the final part of the first quarter of the journey … a hire car to Monte Carlo. Say it quickly and it sounds feasible. Do it in peak hour with a 5pm deadline and you sweat out more weight than Lewis Hamilton in two hours around the F1 circuit.

Squeaky bum session over with, we’d made it to the south coast.

And finally, after five days and five cities we’ve hit the south coast.

A few days rest, then next stop the Alps!