L’Etang la Ville, France

L’Etang la Ville, France

Our French abode

Saturday saw us all packed and heading off the St. Pancreas station to catch the Eurostar across to Paris.  Had already done a trip by the underground, without our luggage, during the week to be sure we knew where we were going.  So off we headed full of confidence only to discover our local station “closed for track maintenance”.  Hmmph!  TAXI!  Had our first ride in a London cab – which I suppose we had to do before leaving town and it cost only marginally more than two tickets through two train zones – two platform changes and numerous flights of stairs.  So we arrived at St Pancreas in plenty of time.  Pleased we had booked first class seats with table (thanks to advice on website “seat61”).  Left sunny London – into tunnel – out the other side in a cold wet and miserable France.

The neighbours
The King’s hunting ground when he visited Versailles

Not to be put off we headed off to our first accommodation in the wonderful little village half an hour just outside Paris called L’Etang la Ville.  Had booked a room in a private house through “airbnb”.  Turns out our hosts are and Aussie Opera singer Louise Canninan from Brisbane and British Opera singer husband Rodney Earl Clarke.  Despite the rain, the house the village and district were picture perfect.  Spent a couple of days walking, bussing & training to local areas.  We’ve decided if we move to France the neighbouring town of St Germain en Laye is where we want to will live.  Unfortunately it is also where all the richest of the rich Parisians live.  Beautiful town with all the best shops overlooked by castles with huge gardens.  Palace of Versailles isn’t the only mansion in town. It’s up in the hills west of Paris.  You can see Paris spread out beneath you from some vantage points.

One disparaging thing is that we sat down at a cafe to have a coffee and it must have been a break in school as a whole bunch (probably about twenty) young girls and boys  (about 14/15 years of age) were enjoying their espressos and every one of them was smoking.  But despite the fact that the French still smoke as much as ever, they do it as they do everything else – with class.

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