Had met another Aussie called Robert (he was a bit dopey but he reckoned he was an Optician but he quit 'cause he was bored), and the previous day we had decided to visit Versaille together. Met him for breakfast at 8.30 but I was still bone-tired and could have done with some more sleep). Disgusting dirty kitchen in the dingy basement of the hostel, stale bagettes and margerine and no plates and crappy coffee.
That was about the best thing about the whole day.
We then went to a supermarket to stock up on some sandwhich fillings for lunch and then proceeded to bumble our way around the metro system to Versaille, only to find that large chunks of it were closed for repairs, so we had to also get buses. As with London and Prague, I was feeling like the ball in a pin-ball machine - completely out of control but somehow out of sheer perseverance, still managing to eventually find the right hole.
We followed the hordes of tourists descending on the Palace and then joined the 300+ queue in the baking sun for an hour to buy tickets. The chateau was fairly good, but nowhere neat as magnigficent or well-mailnained as The State Hermitage in St. Petersburg. There were so many crowds (Saturday day-trippers?), that it turned into a very tiring afternoon. After paying double the entrance fee for the Gardens (because they said they would turn the fountains on later), we had a very yummy picnic lunch next to the sign saying 'do not sit on the grass', (loads of other Frenchies sitting there too). It was the only place in the park that was in the shade. Eventually got told to skedadle. (Is that a word?). Have you noticed I can't spell English OR French? I actually won a spelling bee competition when I was a kid and got on TV, but I guess you wouldn't believe that either. Well so anyway, another two hours cooking in the sun and we were ready to leave. Got back with much less hassle, and my grand plans to go to see the Moulin Rouge disintregrated as all I could manage was a walk up with hill to Sacre Cour with my bagette, cheese and pate, and watching the live shows till it got dark. Very cool aren't I? Spent the whole time fending off nasty leering French gits. Then a wander around Montmarche. Still can't spell French. Competely whacked after an entire day out at Versaille 40 degrees celcious can't spell that either in the shade and all I remember is being told we can't sit in the shade on the grass and getting whistle-blown off.
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