2 months, 2 kids, 2 continents (technically)

[NM]

But there are only 2 Yorkshire puddings. the third person misses out!

or the third person had already snafled one before the pic was taken . They never last long on any serving plate in my experience.

My mother (yes, from North Yorkshire) would smack any hand that reached for one early, reminding that they are there to soak up the gravy left on the plate ... they never lasted that long.

 

[MattA]

or the third person had already snafled one before the pic was taken . They never last long on any serving plate in my experience.

My mother (yes, from North Yorkshire) would smack any hand that reached for one early, reminding that they are there to soak up the gravy left on the plate ... they never lasted that long.

Yep. There were three. One had already disappeared down the table before I took the photo.

 

[NM]

Yep. There were three. One had already disappeared down the table before I took the photo.

I rest my case ... as an experienced "pud" thief ...

Mum: Where'd t'other pud goo?
Me: I dunno nout whut yor talkin aboot.

 

[drron]

Just as well then. Actually we are going to dinner at a friends house on the weekend and it is roast beef with Yorkshire pudding. She knows to make 3 for me.

 

[NM]

Just as well then. Actually we are going to dinner at a friends house on the weekend and it is roast beef with Yorkshire pudding. She knows to make 3 for me.

I hope for your cholesterol's sake that they are baked using vegetable or olive oil and not the dripping that Mum used many years ago - before Dad's tripple bypass requirement in his early 50's, which believe was a contributing factor (he did live almost almost 40 years beyond his heart surgery and subsequent diet modification). Mind you, her original dripping-baked puds were amazing to eat. Alas they be no more.

 

[andye]

So we survived the very hot 30+ degree London day on Friday. I googled “splash park London” and that led us to Elephant Springs, a park in one of the new developments around Elephant & Castle, a short bus ride + Northern Line away: Introducing Elephant Springs | Elephant Park

Nice space with plenty of shade, a bit of sand and running water for the children to splash around in.

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Bookended our visit with pizzas, and later gelato, at the restaurant over the road.

Two very tired children by the end of the day.

Oh and just as I was telling our 3yo “well, actually, there aren’t *really* any elephants here”, I was proven wrong:

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I grew up in Camberwell just down the Walworth Road from the Elephant (which was a big bus exchange)
Nice to see some regeneration, as it used to be an absolute brutalist monstrosity.
Associated with Chaplin and Michael Caine though

 

[MattA]

Sun’s back.

Also a slight tweak to our best laid plans.

Tomorrow we are booked to take the Eurostar to Paris. We had been planning to stay one more night with our friend in Clapham, but tomorrow is also the first day of “the biggest rail strikes in the UK for 30 years”. While our Eurostar is still scheduled to run (for now), the tube is not, and the traffic will likely be chaotic. So we booked a hotel near St Pancras for the one night and Uber XLed across London with all our bags today.

Nice views as we crossed Waterloo Bridge:



First hotel of the trip, then: we’re at The Pullman St Pancras, just on the Euston Rd next to the British Library, about 5 mins walk from the station.

I’m Accor Gold, so we arrived around lunchtime to try for an early checkin. Checkin was painfully slow (one overworked guy manning the desk; bloke behind me in the queue muttering about wasting 10 mins everytime he has to speak to the front desk…), but eventually there is a room ready for us.

The hotel is not much to look at from the outside:



But the views are good from level 14 where our room is located:





The family room suits us perfectly. The bathroom is in the middle (just to the left of the photo below) separating the master bed from the sofa bed for the little ones, creating the sense of two different spaces even though it’s just one room.

 

[MattA]

All a bit mod in the lobby.



Not sure about step-only access at the front door though. There’s a small lift for wheelchairs just to the right, thankfully, but no ramp to wheel our suitcases and pram up…

 

[MattA]

Anyway. Bags dropped, we headed out for some lunch and a wander. To Marylebone High Street and then Regent’s Park. An old stomping ground for us: we used to live just up from Baker St, in another life pre-children…

Beautiful sunny day.

 

[MattA]

A couple of afternoon pints at The Volunteer on Baker Street, one of our old locals, with one of my wife’s colleagues who just happened to be in town…



Then for dinner back to King’s Cross/St Pancras. The area behind the station has gone through a massive redevelopment over the last few years. There’s heaps of restaurants, bars, and shops back there.

Kids had a bit of a run through the water jets in Granary Square:



After trying our luck at a few places for dinner (“table for 4? Yeah that’ll be 45 mins to an hour, mate”) we settled on Vermuteria in Coal Drops Yard, who had room for us, cold beer, and good food.



That’s just about it for London for us for now. Next stop Paris.

 

[MattA]

Another sunny day in London by the looks of it. Eschewed the hotel breakfast in favour of a little cafe just over the road, on Sandwich Street, of all places. Super cheery and friendly staff, who gave the kids free chocolates, and the total bill for the four of us was about the same as one adult at the hotel buffet.



Quick dash back to the hotel for the bags and off to St Pancras to catch the Eurostar.

Check out is mercifully brief compared to check in, and it turns out I *can* use the little lift to the side of the steps for the bags on the way out. Maybe I was too hasty in criticising their lack of a ramp…

Eurostar terminal is super busy, despite the cancelled trains.



Our carriage is pretty much full, and we depart on time.



Only in Standard this time, so we’re self-catering.



(American tourists settling in to the seats across the aisle from us as we are tucking into our sandwiches: “hey look at these guys, they brought a whole picnic lunch!)

 

[OATEK]

Only in Standard this time, so we’re self-catering.

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(American tourists settling in to the seats across the aisle from us as we are tucking into our sandwiches: “hey look at these guys, they brought a whole picnic lunch!)

Just like flying BA in Y. The queues at Pret in T5 were huge the day we ducked over to Dublin in April, and the Pret bags were almost a standard carryon for families!!

 

[MattA]

All running smoothly as far as Gare du Nord. Arrived on time.

First challenge: get some Euros. I’d read that some taxis don’t take cards so left the rest of the family and dashed off to find an ATM. The station ones are out of action for some reason so head over the road to a nearby BNP. I’m aware that there are heaps of touts around Gare du Nord who will approach you to offer you an inflated rate, so we head right from the Eurostar exits to the official taxi rank to ensure we get a proper taxi running a meter.

As it turned out, I wouldn’t need the cash after all…

It’s all going well at first: a friendly security guard ushers us into an express line for families and people requiring assistance. As there’s four of us, plus a couple of big cases, and a pram, we take the first “big taxi”. Things take a turn when I give the driver our destination: we’re staying at Residence Nell in the 9th (The Residence Nell | Opera Paris ****), which is only about 2 kms away. Taxi man is not happy.

Oh there’s an extra charge, because this is a big taxi, he says, in French, and chucks a lazy €58 fixed charge on the meter. While I don’t remember the “arguing with taxi drivers” chapter in Tricolore 1, I have enough schoolboy French to argue back: «Ce n’est pas vrai. Il faut utiliser le mètre. C’est la loi!» (I’ve no idea if this is strictly true, but I know I’m being ripped off here).

We continue to argue, in my best school French, as he continues to drive in the direction of our hotel. He downgrades the meter to €32. The lowest he can possibly do. I’m pretty sure that the correct meter fare for this journey should be €10-20 max.

Our discussion escalates when I ask him for his registration details, start taking photos, and tell him I will email the taxi regulator.



At this point I would probably have paid €30 just to get away, but he promptly resets the meter to 0, and tells us we have to get out of the car.



After we get our luggage out he stands there next to the car with the boot open so I can’t get a shot of the license plate, not realising I already have this from the sticker inside the vehicle (the one that has all the details of the correct fare structure).



Of course I will absolutely be emailing https://www.prefecturedepolice.inte...-des-transports-particuliers-de-personnes-t3p — I’m sure it will do nothing, but it’ll make me feel better.

So we walk the last 200m to the hotel, having paid nothing, dragging our cases along the streets. As scams go, I think it needs some work.

Just before we reach the hotel, we stop off at the Patisserie over the road for a restorative sweet treat, cases, pram and all. While we’re deciding, an older local lady pops into the shop. We tell her to go first.

As she finishes up her order, she buys two extra pains au chocolat as a present for our girls.

We couldn’t get two more contrasting experiences of Paris if we tried: a taxi driver trying to scam us; a local randomly buying pastries for our kids for no other reason than just because.

Bienvenue à Paris.

 

[MattA]

Anyway, enough of that. Our room at Residence Nell is very nice. We’re in a Classic Apartment, with a living room area with sofa bed and kitchenette plus a separate bedroom with a door that closes, which is perfect after all sleeping in the same room for the last week.



Views from the window:



Went for a bit of a wander through the nearby arcades:

 

[MattA]

Bit more of a wander then dinner at Monbleu, just over the road from the hotel, a cheese restaurant: Monbleu





Sat out front, watching Paris pass us by:

 

[MattA]

Today in random acts of kindness from unknown Parisiens…

So we’re rocking a cheap folding pram on this trip. 3yo just wouldn’t be able to make it otherwise. It’s actually a freebie that was given to us at LHR on a previous trip when SQ lost ours. It’s been living in my parents’ loft for the last few years.

Anyway, it’s not a great pram, but it’s small, portable and foldable. It’s also (post London) broken: there’s a bit of plastic around the wheels that has snapped, which is making it increasingly hard to push on the uneven streets of Paris.

On our walk this morning I pull over to see if I can fiddle with the broken wheel. A nearby worker, on ciggie break outside his kebab shop, approaches to help. «c’est cassé monsieur?» «oui, c’est cassé»

He dissapears off into the shop, rummaging around in the cupboards behind the counter, and returns with a bit of wire, which he proceeds to wrap around the wheel to hold it together. It works! He hands me a second piece of wire for ongoing repairs.



«Merci monsieur! Au revoir!» and off we head, pram now rolling much easier.

I don’t know if it’s just travelling with kids, or if it’s a stereotype that just doesn’t hold, but for a city with a reputation for being grumpy, brusk and rude, all the locals we have encountered so far (taxi driver excepted) have been universally cheery and friendly.

 

[MattA]

A day of wandering the streets. Ticked off a few landmarks.

 

[MattA]

 

[ellen10]

Ah sigh! Paris my favourite city in the world. Love walking the streets of Paris the beautiful parks and buildings. Thanks for the memories

 

[Pushka]

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It was 40 in Paris last week. You speak French so we found that created a lot of good will there.