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We arrived back in London today where we took the Eurostar train to Paris, which took only 2.5 hours — way better than flying, plus we got to through the Chunnel. Before I get into our evening in Paris, I thought I’d talk a bit about our cruise in general. We cruised aboard the MS Marco Polo, a relatively small cruise ship, holding about 750 passengers and 350 crew. The small size is what enabled it to get into some of the more exotic ports of call we visited and also served to make the entire experience more intimate. It wasn’t long before you starting seeing lots of familiar faces, both onboard and ashore, and we also got to know several members of the crew pretty well over the course of the cruise. Since this was a cruise leaving from and returning to London, the vast majority of the cruise guests were English, with a smattering of Scottish and Welsh. As best we could tell, there were two other couples from the U.S., one Canadian couple, and a group from South Africa. We also met a guy who was actually from Orkney, so he joined the cruise there in Kirkwall and departed in Lerwick — certainly convenient for him! We also learned that cruising is primarily a retirement activity for Brits, which meant that, other than a handful of children aboard, we were the youngest guests by an average of at least 30 years. It was like a floating nursing home. Canes, walkers, and wheelchairs were everywhere. Another cruise member commented, “I’ll wager fewer finish this cruise than started it!”
Dinner each night was in the Waldorf restaurant which served a five or six course meal. Every night. The food, as put by one of our tablemates, was “never bad, always good, never spectacular.” Seating in the restaurant was assigned and, with the exception of one evening, everyone sat at the same table each night. That turned out to be nice as we were able to get to know the two couples we ate with quite well. One couple was English, and the others were sheep farmers from Wales. There was a more casual restaurant aboard the ship that had buffets for breakfast, lunch, tea, and dinner. We would usually take breakfast there — four course breakfasts seemed too much, but generally preferred to get lunch ashore when possible and dinner in the Waldorf.
Entertainment aboard the ship was a highlight. Each night there was a stage performance of some kind — singing and dancing, violin concerts, etc. In one of the bars there was also a “cabaret” each night, which apparently means glorified karaoke. Basically, a few of the crew members each night would sing songs. They were professional singers, so karaoke might be exaggerating a bit….even so it was a blast, mostly because of the charisma of the singers who goofed their way through everything from Motown to ABBA to The BeeGees to Michael Jackson. Most of the crew was Russian/Eastern European, including some of the entertainment staff, which led to some amusing moments. My favorite undoubtedly was hearing “Achy Breaky Heart” crooned out in a thick Russian accent. There was also bingo, “game shows,” lectures, and on and on. Despite the ship being rather small, there was never a shortage of things to do.
Anyway, back to Paris. After arriving at Gare du Nord, we took a cab to our hotel near the Ecole Militaire and Eiffel Tower. After quickly settling in, we took the subway to Montmartre where we had a look around the Sacre Coeur before having a bite to eat then returning to the Sacre Coeur to look out over Paris after dark. I should take a minute to talk about Montmartre and the Sacre Coeur. For those who haven’t been there, Montmartre is a neighborhood on a hill overlook Paris, and the Sacre Coeur is at the top of the hill. The nearest subway station to the Sacre Coeur is Abbesses. I don’t know what Abbesses means in French, but I’m convinced it means “The Abyss” because it is about 10 stories underground. I estimate that because I lost count about the same time I lost my breath climbing up all those stairs. Of course, there’s an elevator, but there was a big line waiting for it and we figured we could walk it, thinking there would be only a few flights of stairs. So, wheezing and gasping we finally made it to the top and emerged into the middle of Montmartre. From there it should be a short walk to the Sacre Coeur, which it was. Straight up. Probably another 10 stories worth of stairs further along, in danger of cardiac arrest, we finally arrived at the Sacre Coeur where I could stop clutching at my chest and enjoy the magnificent view.
We’ll be in Paris for two more days, flying out on Tuesday. The enormous backlog of pictures I couldn’t upload the last two weeks are uploading as I type. I won’t have time to caption them, so you’ll all just have to guess what you’re looking at. Sorry Jonas, still no nudity.
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