A deaf girl in Paris

Phew! Am now on the planet to write a blog, after being slightly exhausted yesterday from my weekend in Paris...

But what a weekend it was!

It nearly didn’t happen though, after my Crohn's put in an impromptu Friday appearance, just before a lunch date. Three sips of soup later, I was trying to conceal my shakes.

But, after a consultation with my oldest friend, Dr SuperCathyFragileMystic, I decided that a holiday was just what I needed and, after promising Ma I'd be careful – turns out getting travel insurance with Crohn's is not that straight forward – I set off…

…in Premium Leisure class!

This meant I got a three-course meal and seemingly bottomless amounts of alcohol. The latter of which I couldn't have as I was feeling rotten, the former was a welcome sight after eating nothing that day.

And what of Paris?

Well, if I could lipread French better and afford to live in a little flat on The Seine, I would move there in an instant.

It's fabulous.

The Saturday was spent wandering the Musée d'Orsay, which is literally littered with fabulous and famous artwork. My favourites being the Degas Little Dancer sculpture and Van Gogh's self-portrait. Both of them had a vulnerability about them that was captivating.

Another interesting thing about the d'Orsay is that it used to be a station, so it was fun sitting in there, surrounded by paintings by all the great impressionists while imagining it was once the Parisian exit to Orleans.

Next, saw a trip to the Rodin museum. A magnificent house, where the artist himself lived and grounds that are adorned with his famous works – The Thinker, The Kiss, The Gates Of Hell.

But to get there however, we didn't walk. We cycled on the Parisian equivalent of the London Barclaycard bikes.

Luckily, French Cousin 2 is an accomplished Parisian cyclist so I just followed her, while silently hoping my European Health Card would cover me should I park myself under the wheels of a passing Renault.

And it turns out that cycling really is the best way to see Paris, and indeed the best way to get home at 2.30am after a party in the rain by the Seine!

On the Sunday, we took a boat trip down the canal from Parc de la Villette into the centre of the city. This involved five locks and a 2km tunnel under Paris. Interspersed with circular grills giving views of the sky, we motored down this secret highway by the gentle lamplight, marvelling at how creative the architect of this has been. When faced with the industrial unsightliness of the canal, he simply hid it, and built beautiful buildings on top.

Naturally, after seeing it from below, I wanted to see it from pavement level so we rented bikes and headed to the Place de la Bastille, a road junction that saw me wishing I had really had managed to take out travel insurance and letting out random yelps as I bounced over cobblestones, dodged buses and cars and kept a watchful eye on my excellent tour guide, French Cousin 2.

And all too soon it was time to return to London - on yesterday's 7am Eurostar... hence the lack of blog yesterday.

So now all that’s left to do, is plan the next trip…

Hurrah!