Travel Blog Daniella and Luke's Travelblog


Gay Paris (well, not gay but he doesn’t have a girlfriend, which is sort of strange)

After a surpisingly good sleep, we headed out to see the sights looking decidely touristy in our cargo shorts, kahkis and quick-dry tops in trendy-as-shit Paris where pin-striped business men on cycles smoking cigarettes and using mobiles sans helmuts are a regular sight.

We spent the morning racking up a lot of sightseeing miles before standing in line for 45 minutes to get inside the Louvre.

Afterwards, we spent walked back to Jardin du Paris and put our feet up before heading back to the hotel to freshen up for dinner.  Continue reading(?) for an image dump interspersed with my off-the-cuff commentary.

The guy on the top is about to get into a whole heap of shit when the guy on the bottom tells Mum.

Great western phallic symbol, or greatest western phallic symbol?

Hotel room roof - testing camera.

What we all came to see (if what we came to see was a blurry shot of the Mona Lisa).

Not actually made of gummy.

Relaxing in Jardin du Paris.

Back entrance (tradesman's entrance) of the Louvre.  We actually saw a whole bunch of construction workers exit here.

Side entrance of the Louvre.

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Dazed and confused

After spending more than a day in transit between various international airport lounges and seemingly eating countless airline meals interspersed with sleep and in-flight movies we arrived at Charles De Gaul in France where after some confusion we found that my baggage had been misplaced and was due in later this evening.  Fantastic news for someone who has been wearing the same clothes for a day and a half.

So we spent today seeing how much worse smelling we could make my clothes by taking a longer than expected walk to Cimitere du pere Lachaise.

Unfortunately, my dream of drinking a beer on Jim's grave was not realised due to the barricades and large crowds in place.

RIP Lizard King

RIP Lizard King

Bonus stoner poetry on a nearby tree.

I also found what would appear to be a family vault of the French branch of the family tree.

And to cap the day off, we people-watched at a nearby cafe and learnt that 50cl is francophone for 0.5 litres - what a crazy world!