We were both more than ready to leave Paris. In many respects it had been a disappointment. When Paris closes for summer it makes many things a lottery and added to that the disappointing weather it left a lot to be desired.

I mentioned in an earlier post about the restaurants, boulangerie and market being closed and that I had higher expectations for our last day with a visit to the Museum of the Middle Ages and a restaurant ranked 52nd in Paris. I did say I wouldn't put the "Mocka" on it by naming it, however I needn't have bothered …. It was closed. Neither the restaurants website nor TripAdvisor had noted it was closed. Long walk for almost nothing.

We spent several hours in the museum, and it is one venue that is as good on a second visit. We then set out for the restaurant … closed. As we walked back down the street in despair, we noticed that almost every table out front of a Bistrot was occupied. Went over to look at the menu and discovered everyone was speaking French … no tourists. We decided to give it a try. Le Gay Lussac.

I entered a review at TripAdvisor giving a ranking of three stars however it wasn't that bad an experience. My beer was cold and good. Ches's Kir Royal was the size of an eye wash with little crème de cassis and at $AUD12.00 a rip off.

My snails were a little chewy. Ches's pate was enjoyable however the "La Monsieur" was underwhelming. Luke warm open sandwich rather than toasted and she never could get past the fact that the title was confusing "La" being feminine and "Monsieur" being masculine.

Then came the highlight and perhaps a guide to anyone else ever eating there. Most of the locals were ordering either Steak Tartare or Burgers. I had a rare burger, so only a little less rare than the Tartere. Wonderfully moist and flavourful. Then again the chips and waiter were a bit soggy.

We suspected that the crowd's queueing for Sainte-Chapelle would not be a good way to end our trip to Paris, so retreated to our apartment to pack for Saturday's departure.

The trip to the airport was an excellent exclamation point. The train service to the airport was replaced by buses so we opted for a taxi. Carted the bags down the street to the rank. Into a Peugeot 308 grubby inside and out. Then again, it did tick over to 284,000 km as we drove out to the airport. The driver took off and bullied his way through the traffic along the Seine. His hands were underhand on the bottom of the steering wheel, which didn't give me any confidence that he could react to an emergency … which he was likely to cause. On to the motorway where we only slowed once to navigate around a car on fire and then to the airport.

Here we navigated through to the boarding gates through procedures that make Heathrow look efficient and speedy. I thought allowing 3 hours was going to be unnecessary however 2 would have cut it very fine.

In the interests of getting the last whine out of my system ... the B.O. has been unbelievabe and to cap it off, someone in close vicinity on the aircraft was determined to make it a highlight of our trip to Paris. Even though very cold, we had the air jet on full blowing down on us to keep it at bay.

Outa here.