We woke up in Paris this morning.
Heatwave Paris even, and Paris on the day of the last stage of the Tour de France to boot, filled with millions of people out and about in the ample sunshine. For the umpteenth time in our lives we have missed the finish, this time by only a few kilometres, but since Mary and Damien had travelled half way round the world for our rendezvous, we could hardly excuse ourselves.
Everything about the place was abuzz, from the buskers on the Metro, to the concerts in the streets. Paris Plagse, the man made beaches by the side of the Seine were awash with people eager to get a tan on the sand, or whatever it is one gets when the temperature in the shade is in the mid thirties and one is lying in the sun all afternoon.
We wish we had time for more than just a long catch up lunch on a sidewalk, but alas we had a train to catch and a long journey to make.
With music still ringing in our ears, we arrived in Montbeliard in the late evening, happy to be home again, ready to move at something less than the pace of the past week or so.