One often ponders the vagaries of international emergency contact, but this is not a good idea when you wake at 3am to find someone having difficulty breathing. Bruce had a terrible night and thankfully I didn't need to scramble around trying to work out how to call for aid (in Europe it's 112 by the way). Consequently I lay awake for a long time, drifting off at some point to wake at 10:45!
We dragged ourselves about and made it downstairs at 1pm to meet Fraser Durance for lunch. He looks very well and enjoys la vie Parisienne - who wouldn't? Sounds like there's plenty of work for Aussies with a preparedness to have a go, even if they have trouble speaking French. I think he was wise, however, to ask a friend to translate for him at the dentist.
After lunch Bruce headed back to the apartment and Fraser and I walked down to Chatelet via the mercifully closed Cafe Oz; it looks like a dive, which is probably intentional to give it that real Australian flavour.
From there I walked on to Sainte Chapelle. This 13th century Gothic royal chapel holds the Passion Relics that Louis IX bought from the Byzantine Emperor, including the crown of thorns. Elgin Marbles anyone? While part of the chapel is under restoration, the place is delightful. The vaulted ceilings in the upper and lower chapels are fleur-de-lys blue. Great stained glass too.
I crossed the street looking for a cafe and found a pet market. Good thing Bruce wasn't here or we would have had a customs issue at home.
I texted Bruce and got no reply so made my way up to Montmartre to meet the others at the steps of Sacre Coeur, like half the Parisian population. There was a busker doing tricks with a soccer ball - big deal you may say. Well, try it on a plinth with a drop down of some metres onto stone steps or scaling a lamp post above said "safety zone" while doing your tricks with one hand and holding on with the other. This guy knows how to draw the crowd. I figured any soccer ball act is likely to attract the Harrises and the Halls thought the same as they arrived soon after. Eventually Tim showed up as did the others along with Ana's brother Felipe and his wife Paula. It was great to see them again.
We went through Sacre Coeur - entry to the church is free; there was no way I could do the dome with all those steps after climbing up Montmartre. The church is delightful inside, being built in the late 19th century.
We wandered down to the square past painters, one of whom had a painting of a cafe called Chez Sophie. Tim bought it as an appropriate reminder.
After the others had crepes / ice cream, we headed back to Sacre Coeur where we all sprinkled some of Sophie's ashes over the grass looking out over Paris. Lovely.
Then it was the trek home. We worked out that the Halls' journey up required the least change of lines so headed to Chateau Rouge to follow it back. When the train pulled into the well populated platform it was already packed. We all squeezed on and off we hurtled, changing at St Denis for Bonne Nouvelle. Felipe and Paula continued on to their hotel as they were tired.
Back at the apartment Bruce had slept all afternoon and was feeling better. After a cuppa, he and I went to dinner with the Halls at a bistro across the street. It was a lovely meal and we all tried escargot - except Annette who had attempted to try them before but didn't like the idea of the shells. They are ok although the flavour is in the sauce.
Back home to bed.