Waking up to my final day in the UK was surreal. Where has this week disappeared to? I’ve packed a lot in and now have to get myself together and get ready for a visit to Ian and Paul’s village they used to live in. So after a couple of cups of much needed coffee we head out to a place called St Mary Bourne.
The area is gorgeous and so green. As we drive through some of the villages they have speed checkers to tell you how fast you’re going as you approach. If you’re going too fast it gives you a sad face and a smiley face if you’ve slowed down enough. Along the way as well, I spot a duck with its ducklings and Paul obliges as I tell him to stop the car. I am a sucker for animals in general, but baby ones awwwwww!

We’re in St Mary Bourne to attend the Village Breakfast hosted once a month and they raise money for a different charity each time. It’s held in the local hall where we are greeted by many as Ian and Paul hadn’t been back to visit for some time. And of course with Ian’s appearances on the BBC and Sky News yesterday, everyone treated him like a celebrity.

Breakfast has options of a small or large (or vegetarian). Were served coffee, tea and juice along with our meals. It’s great to sit amongst the ‘Village people’ and I love the eccentric personalities that come to chat. Rue (who must take credit for the picture above), is an elderly lady who regailed us of her day celebrating the Royal Wedding. She got ‘sozzled’ and seemed to still be on a big of a high. Although she wasn’t sure whether it was the alcohol from yesterday or the excitement that the village breakfast was going so well.

its time to head off, but of course not before a quick photo with the Royal couple.

We swing past the wedding spot of Ian and Paul on our way home and dodge cyclists as there’s an event on in the streets of Vernham Dean. It’s amazing that not more of them get hit. The roads are already narrow and when they are trying to ride side by side it’s a recipe for disaster.
We arrive home and it’s time to pack. I have packed light so it doesn’t take long before I’m set to go. Dads joining me in Paris but will head to Prague as I head to Italy so he only packs a selection of his clothes as he will return to the UK later on.
We have a little bit of time so we take the scenic route to the station. It’s incredibly stunning and yet another stop as Paul remembers I wanted to snap a pic in the middle of a field of yellow flowers that I had seen so many times driving through. I hold my UK flag given to me by Ian and pose for a picture.

We arrive at the train station with little time to spare, but fortunately Ian looks up and sees the train is delayed so we will have time for a quick coffee and snack before they leave us.
In the UK if you’re Southern Railway train is delayed more than 15 mins you can have your ticket refunded. So I submit a claim online as our train pulled in 19 mins later that expected.
It’s an easy tube ride from Waterloo out to London St Pancras International and we’ve got plenty of time to spare. So we quickly have a look at where we check in then go on the hunt for somewhere to sit and relax. Cause once you’re in the terminal there isn’t much to do or look at.

We find a champagne bar and I order a porriage too. Normally a staple for breakfast I’d not had any at all since I’d left. The staff were gorgeous and helpful and before long we thought we’d head down and check in. Surprisingly we were offered an earlier train, as they go every half an hour. So we decide to take the offer and make sure we have a front facing seat.
When we get in the train I realize that there is so much space. We get going right on time and the train isn’t at capacity either. I was hoping to do some travel research on my way to Paris but, although the train has WiFi, the signal is more like dial up so I opt out and look out the window at the changing scenery.

We go under the Channel which is about 50km long, but it’s seems like in an instant you’re out already. The journey in total is only a couple of hours and I can’t believe I’m here. The train clocked up to 250km/hour while we enjoyed a wine and some snacks along the way because we knew we’d be traveling over dinner time.

We make our way to the taxi rank and showed our driver our hotel address. And despite lots of yelling and a few close calls we make it safely. It was interesting to see that in the taxi there were lollies, water, WiFi and a place to charge your devices.

Our Hotel is well placed. We are staying at one called Villa Luxembourg. We quickly get changed and head out into the night. It’s about 9pm but still very light.
Paul had given me a book to read called “Dont be a tourist in Paris”. It gives you so many cool things to do and places to see that aren’t on your usual tourist map. So I’d read there was dancing by the Seine on a Sunday night I’d the weather is fine, and it was a stunning night so we use our map to find our way. Along the way the silhouette of Notre-Dame stops me in my tracks.

Its not long before we find the music and the people we were looking for. The atmosphere is contagious and you can’t wipe the smile off my face. It’s an incredible sight. There’s a speaker with music playing as well as guys on percussion bringing the beat. I think of my friends back home and how we could really have enjoyed a good night out here together. Especially as we all love to dance.
It’s in an amphitheater so plenty of places to sit with a view of the busy dance floor. The salsa is an incredible dance. They make it look so easy.
I sit and watch while dad goes on the hunt for some wine for us. While he’s is gone I meet Kwan. He’s a Colombian living in Paris. He asked me how long I’d been in Paris and was surprised to hear that I’d just arrived and this was the first thing I’d chosen to do. He was impressed that I’d not gone for a more touristy first stop and informed me that I couldn’t have got a more authentic Parisian experience than coming along to the Seine tonight. He explains that wine can be purchased from the men walking around and that I shouldn’t pay more that €6 for a bottle. I messaged dad so he can come back from his search. But just a hint, bring cups.

Kwan kindly negotiated with the guy selling wine and I just hand over my money. He was very sweet. He’s out with friends who he introduces me too as his very dear friend he’s known since high school. Cheeky! I meet the group. There’s the lovely Bruna who ends up being my fly girl for the night, Josh a British guy who’s lived in France for more than 10 years and a few others who are all just having a great time together. So am I!
I find out that this party can go into the wee hours of the morning, and happens most nights of the week in summer. There’s been a time where it hasn’t been quite so busy as since the city has been affected by terrorism it’s taken a while for people to get back to normal, especially when it comes to gathering together a lot of people in one place.
I am asked to dance and explain I’m not good at it, but he doesn’t seem to care.
He’s very kind and helps me learn the rhythm. I’ve definitely got a long way to go.
Bruna and I hit the dance floor next. We both don’t have a clue what we’re doing but laugh and smile while we are convinced everyone would be jealous of our moves.

Im asked by someone else to dance and given my experience it’s safe to say I’m a liability out there. I love to dance but this is very technical. He doesn’t speak English so Bruna translates. Apparently he is a dance teacher. So I think – what’s the worst that can happen? Fortunately I made it through the dance and sit back down to enjoy the final parts of my night there with my new friends.
I farewell everyone (a kiss on each cheek is customary) and head home. It’s a bit of a walk so I called an Uber. My driver doesn’t speak any English so I show him the address and use google translate to ask him to get me home safely. He does, but before I head inside I stop at a cafe for a quick bite to eat and a final glass of wine.
Ahhhhhh Paris, you and I are going to get along just fine.