Well we are back from our little sojourn in Paris and Telford 48 hours earlier than intended.
We left as planned of Thursday morning to catch the train to Paris, had a good journey up and arrived at lunch time. Lunch was partaken in a little tourist restaurant next to Shakespeare and Company, on the left bank of the Seine, overlooking Notre Dame. Very nice too.
Then we went in search of a tie to complete the Father of the Bride, outfit and headed back to our hotel for a bath and a rest before dinner in one of Paris' oldest brasseries, Bofinger.
Bofinger is a wonderful building, all art deco, glass, paintings and wood. The food was delicious and a very friendly Maitre D served our table.
Sauntering back to our hotel in the Marais area, Jon realised that his foot was aching rather more than it should have. Maybe just the shoes, and the slow walking, we hoped, but when he took his shoe off back at the hotel we both (silently) thought that it was probably worse than that.
Friday morning after little sleep we realised that yes, in fact, it was gout. Very, very painful.
Our plan was to catch the metro to Charles de Gaulle airport, plane to Birmingham and then rail to Telford and a taxi to our hotel. We managed it, heaven knows how, as Jon's foot was just getting more and more swollen, redder, hotter and more painful.
The day of the wedding dawned. Jon was under strict instruction to stay in his room with his foot up while the 'titivating' party went off to titivate the reception.
As we were getting dressed for the ceremony, Jon was determined to put his shoes on.
No way.
He was in agony and had to remove the shoe immediately. I'm amazed he even tried to put it on.
There was no way he could wear it. But he was still determined that he would be able to walk down the aisle and give the bride away.
Our friend came up with the only solution.
'He's not wearing those!' I thought to myself. Well, maybe I voiced it as well.
He did.
The father of the bride staggered down the aisle wearing a very smart linen suit, new tie from Paris and
..... ...... a pair of £6 Tesco carpet slippers!
But at least he managed it and performed his father-of-the-bride tasks admirably, with a smile on his face even though he was in pain!
Thanks Tesco!!
5 comments:
I just thank God that Merv doesn't wear purple fluffy slippers!
owww! But giving the bride away was the most important thing, never mind the shoes :-) And at least it was good weather, by the look if it.
Bofinger is lovely, isn't it; we went there on our first visit to Paris.
We hope nothing is lost in the translation but votre port des poussoirs est pardonné car le jour était exceptionnellement bon. Never have been much good with technical words like slippers!!
From vos vieux amis de l'ours vert. Bis bald. (Still using Eurospeak!) Anyway £6 is £6 over here you know!! Gordon still gets 90p for the coffers. Unlike your VAT free zip up boots and nylon aprons over there.
Aaaaah, Tesco's to the rescue yet again!
I am convinced that it is Tesco's that we should be looking to to save the world's economy. Not the American government with their megabucks bail out plan.
The world currency should be Tesco Vouchers, not the Dollar.
Who would you rather have trying to rescue the world. George Bush or Sir Terrance Tesco?
Aaaaah, Tesco's to the rescue yet again!
I am convinced that it is Tesco's that we should be looking to to save the world's economy. Not the American government with their megabucks bail out plan.
The world currency should be Tesco Vouchers, not the Dollar.
Who would you rather have trying to rescue the world. George Bush or Sir Terrance Tesco?
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