There are things known and things unknown and in between are the doors. (Jim Morrison)

Monday 8^th June

London to Paris

We set off early, wanting to get to the Eurostar with time to spare, and just as well! We walked around to Holborn Station, intending to get the Underground to Kings Cross–St Pancras International, lugging our cases through the peak hour crowds and were unable to go through the turnstiles. Yes we were at the right place. Yes, we had our Oyster cards. But, no, we could not get through. There is no entry into Holborn until after 9:30am. We wanted to be at the Eurostar by 9:30. We had to walk back to Russell Square Station, “only 5 minutes”, said the attendant. Yeah, 5 minutes if you were Usain Bolt, and not carrying a case through hordes of poor sods trying to get to work. We had trebled the distance required and almost felt that if we just went another half a mile we’d probably be at there!

Anyway, we got to the Station, went through the bag searches, passport control etc and boarded the train. Three hours later we were in Paris. 

We were able to buy our Metro tickets on Eurostar, which helped us get to our hotel quite quickly. Walking through Gare de Nord we saw an artist creating some great murals. 

We are staying in Le Marais (4th arrondissement). Our hotel is very comfortable, in a great location and we are very pleased to be here!

We checked in and then headed off to Pere Lachaise Cemetery. We quickly found Oscar Wilde’s grave. We saw where he was born, grew up, went to school and University in Dublin, walked through his neighbourhood in London, and today, visited his grave in Paris. 

As we wandered around, we were very impressed by the monuments, tributes, memorials to the people killed during WW2. There are some fabulous sculptures that are also very striking and moving. 

We wandered around and found Edith Piaf’s grave, Modigliani, Yves Montand, Simone Signoret, Marcel Proust, Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. Searched and searched for Sarah Bernhardt, to no avail, and joined various groups of people looking for Jim Morrison’s grave. We were almost there when the attendants stared rounding us up and telling us to go. We hurried along, because, I, for one, have no wish to spend the night in a cemetery. You would not be able to get out. The walls are at least 3 metres high, topped with the most lethal looking spikes and razor wire. We were a bit concerned because there was one guy sleeping on a grave who did not look like he was going to move along at all. So, no Jim. One of the things unknown.

Rather exhausted, we must have walked at least 15 kms today, we got the train back to Le Marais and found a great restaurant for dinner. Complimentary appetiser, and two courses for a special price. Delicious. We staggered back to the hotel for an early night, sore feet, sore backs, aching legs –it has been a LONG day!