Invalides

The day was overcast and drizzly when the four of us set off mid-morning, after our leisurely breakfasts. That meant adopting Plan B, a visit to the Musée d'Orsay rather than a stroll to the Eiffel Tower and other significant places. We caught the Metro for one stop to Les Invalides, from where we walked below ground, up and down stairs, to catch an RER train for one stop to the Museum. We probably walked at least as far through the various tunnels as if we'd walked along the streets, but at least we were warm and dry.

Eileen had been suffering from a bad hip for a few weeks prior to this, and her specialist had recommended she take a walking stick with her to Paris. She wasn't too keen on the idea, but took his advice nevertheless and had borrowed one from a friend in Harrogate. We emerged from the Metro directly outside the Museum only to be confronted with a massive queue of people waiting to get in. It must have been a couple of hundred metres long, though it was moving steadily. We were of two minds whether it was worth the wait, but in the end we decided to do so. We'd been waiting less than five minutes when a security guard beckoned to Eileen to come with him, then gestured for us to follow. At first we didn't know why, but when the guard led us to the head of the queue, ahead of the waiting hordes, we realised that he'd spotted Eileen's walking stick and, probably under instructions, had saved her (and us) from waiting in line.

All of us had been to Musée d'Orsay previously but were keen to make a return trip as it really is a magnificent place. We and the Lees agreed to go our separate ways to look at the displays we each were most interested in. We'd rendezvous again in 1.5 hours and decide then whether we'd continue in the Museum or move on. When we met up, we agreed that we'd barely scratched the surface, so allowed ourselves a further two hours. After that, we wanted another time extension, so all in all we were there for a good five hours. With all the sculptures, the Impressionist paintings, the van Gogh paintings, the spectacular antique furniture and much, much more it was fantastic. A most enjoyable visit, even if there was much which we didn't get to see. There must have been thousands of people there, but fortunately it's such a huge place that, aside from the Impressionist and the van Gogh areas, it wasn't impossibly crowded. At least Eileen's walking stick had saved us a wait in a very long queue.

Something which has always puzzled Brian in France is that there are so many spectacular patisseries selling beautiful cakes, but that none of them have tables where one can sit down to eat them. Nor do they serve coffee. Meanwhile, the cafes and bars which do serve coffee never have particularly good cakes. Surely there must be a business opportunity for someone who wants to combine the two? Anyway, Brian had previously spotted a place not far from our hotel which did look like it would meet all those requirements, and as the weather had fined up, we decided to walk back there for a late afternoon tea. The cafe met all our expectations and then some. Fantastic cakes, fantastic coffee and excellent friendly service. Cafe Karamel has the lot. Despite our protests, Ian and Eileen very generously shouted us the afternoon tea as part of their 50th wedding anniversary gift to us. We didn't know it yet, but it was all going to be downhill from there.

We were all feeling a little weary, so headed back to our hotel to rest, agreeing to meet in the lobby to go out to dinner at 8pm. The two of us must have been more tired than we'd realised, because we got into deep sleeps and only just woke up in time for our rendezvous. We then headed out to find a place where we'd have dinner. Again, this was to be Ian and Eileen's shout to celebrate our anniversary. There are hundreds of restaurants within walking distance, but many of them were already full. Eventually we found a likely looking place, Cafe Central in the restaurant precinct of Rue Cler, and sat down. Nothing happened, and it took a good half-hour before we managed to get a waiter to take our food and drink orders.

There was then another very long wait before the charcuterie board, which we'd agreed to share, arrived. The various meats were uninteresting and totally flavourless. After that, there was a further very long wait, with us giving the waiters a couple of hurry-ups, before the main courses eventually arrived. And they definitely weren't worth waiting for. Eileen's meal was cold. Clearly, they'd prepared it well before they'd brought it out to us. Ian and Mary had ordered ravioli, but what arrived was something quite unlike anything we'd ever encountered before. Lumps of what we assumed to be plain pasta were buried in a bowl of some sort of white flavourless sauce, and on top of it all sat a tiny piece of anonymous and flavourless meat about the size of a business card. Brian's chicken dish was at least edible though very unexciting. He was the only one who managed to finish his food.

We have known Ian for many years, and he is a very calm person. By then we'd been waiting so long that the restaurant was almost empty, so we were able finally to attract the waiter's attention. Ian demanded he get the manager, who arrived a few moments later. Eileen insists that in all the time she's been married to him she has never seen Ian so angry, but he and Brian let the manager have it with both barrels, telling him that it was a special occasion for us, that the food was awful and the service was atrocious. Anyway, the manager quickly agreed to do the right thing and waived the whole bill. It's probably just as well, as Brian was prepared to write the most scathing review that he possibly could and post it on TripAdvisor. That at least got them off the hook. The only benefit was that we didn't have to pay for the two beers and two carafes of rose - some small compensation.

By this time, it was about 11.30pm and most of the restaurants were closing. However, we found one which served us nice desserts and coffee, so the evening wasn't a total disaster, even if it came close to being one.Read more