Since we arrived so early, we had time for a leisurely coffee and stroll before descending into the already hot metro to make our way towards the lovely Buttes-Chaumont park. We met up with a friend of Steph's, which ended up being extremely helpful because he has a mobile phone, and we don't, so when we couldn't find the party, we were able to call and find our way.
I'm afraid I'll leave loads of people out if I start dropping names, so I'll just say there was a vast array of delicious food, many exclamations of "Och aye!" and "your arse," lovely bi-lingual children, a beeootiful toddler, and more Anglophone accents than you can shake a stick at. It really was a lovely time, and I was really sad to leave to catch our bus home.
After stopping for a quick coffee before making our way back to the Bastille, we descended back into the hell that is the metro in the summer.
So imagine our surprise when we ascended back onto street level at Place de la Bastille, only to find out that the Gay Pride parade was in full swing, and there were no busses in sight.
We consulted with some policemen patrolling the area who were of no help, and called the bus company, which was conveniently closed. By the time we gave up and started to head toward Gare de l'Est to catch a train home, it was past 7pm and the bus surely would have left by then anyway, wherever it was. So, we went back down into the
You can't make this stuff up, can you?