Tag Archives: France

I’m travelling on an underground train in Toulouse when I notice something unusual. Every approaching station is being announced over the PA system in two different languages. I’ve just arrived in the city, so it takes me a while to work out why. The station names come first in French – that much I can handle – then in a similar but more elastic dialect;

The silvery sky hangs low, threatening rain. Standing astride my saddle, I look across the tractor-churned fields of the Somme and pull the collar of my fleece higher as a winter wind sweeps up the valley, biting my nose and pinching my knuckles red.

I was only looking for a caramel au beurre salé crepe. A late-night longing for something salty-sweet and slick with butter led me into town. Tuesday seemed to be a big night in Orléans; there were a surprising amount of people milling around.

The course supervisor throws out a gloved hand in front of us. “Wait!” she barks. Like children at a busy roadside, we stop, look left and right and listen. Nothing. It seems clear. We start to shuffle forwards across the icy track towards the row of two-seater dune buggies on the other side. But again the glove stops us.

Considered by many to be the most loved-up city in the world, it comes as no great surprise that Paris is, well, pretty romantic. From the famous tour Eiffel – location of many a successful proposal – to the bustling cobbled streets of Montmartre and the panoramic views across the city from the mighty Sacré-Coeur, the romantically inspiring settings are plentiful.