Oooh la la Lance....I mean FRANCE!!!!!!

As the most popular tourist destination on the planet, I was surprised at my own feelings of apathy at the prospect of visiting France. Acutely aware that some 80 million other tourists must be onto something, I banished my indifference and entered with arms and eyes wide open. But most especially I prepared my stomach for what could be the defining moment in our gastronomic journey!

Our daily ritual!

Fittingly for Julia and I, the first place we visited was Lyon – the gastronomic capital of France. Despite some notable tourist attractions, we genuinely were there for the food, much to the delight of the locals we spoke to who pride themselves on their renowned gastronomy. After doing some research into where to blow our backpacker budget away, we were left severely underwhelmed and decided to hit the streets for some local insight. We quickly worked up an appetite and stumbled across an unassuming pâtisserie, hindsight would later prove it to be the best pâtisserie we visited in all of France. An energetic and friendly young lady served us and conveniently spoke a little English. Combined with little French we managed to secure the name of a local eatery, bouchon, which she thoroughly recommended. For the remaining hours we were forced, agonisingly to wait for our fateful appointment with French cuisine at its finest.

France easily produces the best baked goods and pastries in the world!

Arriving in the finest threads our backpacks allowed, we were greeted by a genial and enthusiastic host. Unable to contain our excitement, we fumbled around for the menu and were surprised when the waiter declared that there was no menu – that he was the menu. He proceeded to sit down at our table and in, at best, broken English describe what was available. I should mention he did this for every single table for the remainder of the night. All amused at the mutual lack of understanding, the waiter headed for the kitchen and we began to discuss what we thought we had ordered. As we waited for the food, the smells emanating from the kitchen reminded us of our near total ignorance of what we had ordered, yet they seductively comforted any misgivings. To our delight, our entrée arrived and we were excited to see the chef straddling the kitchen and restaurant doorway in order to witness our reactions. He must have been quietly confident as the food, service, ambience and dining experience was quite truly incredible. Easily one of the best meals of our lives.

Escargots - bon appetit!

Tasted much better than it looks! 

Saucisson brioche, or less eloquently put, sausage in bread

Julia and I have an uncanny, albeit convenient, knack of arriving in towns and countries during large and significant cultural events. So arriving in Marseilles we were surprised/not really to find out that their famous and annual 'Fête du Panier' street festival was on. People would ask us, “Oh you have come for the festival, no?,” to which we most often replied, “of course, we are so excited!” Situated in the old town, the festival sees people open their doors and fashion small stalls where they sell home made food and alcoholic mixtures. An OH&S nightmare, but a dream come true for frugal backpackers. For little more $1 we consumed lots of beer, punch of varying quality, liver skewers and crepes prepared by children. More than just a chance for austerity hit Europeans to make some extra cash, each town square also hosts a free music festival. A fully professional outfit with some allegedly big names performing too. What's a good night without some football I hear you say? Well France happened to be playing in the European championship that evening too, so the night was intermittently broken up into football viewing too!

'Punch,' or punch in English!

Genuinely OH&S worst nightmare

One of the many concerts strewn across this small part of town!

The famed 'Fete du Panier'

Aside from food, another reason Julia wanted to visit France was for Le Tour de France. The pinnacle of bike racing and endurance sport. Also the race was won by an Australian, Cadel Evans last year. Luckily for Julia we would be witnessing four stages. Two of which bought us to the small town Pau, just outside the Pyrnees - a famous and harsh mountain range that straddles the border of France and Spain. Luckily for Julia, I was also desperately keen to see the race in person as for many years I have spent countless hours and many sleepless nights watching the SBS coverage from Australia. Standing on the side of the road, the excitement all around is palpable. Free promotional goodies are literally thrown into the masses, often resulting in skirmishes for the hurled goods and children weeping at missing out on something that their sibling got. With patriots waving flags and cycling enthusiasts craning their necks around in anticipation of the psychedelic glow of the oncoming peloton, the atmosphere was electric! The sheer logistics of the event; road closures, settling up grandstands and not to mention a mini athletes village in each town, everyday for three weeks are quite impressive. Needles to say as an avid cycling fan, witnessing the event in in person was quite a big deal for me and really something to tick of my bucket list!

Wiggins in the zone before the start of the stage

Excitement at the finish!!

World Champion, Mark Cavendish blazing past!

Absolutely bursting with freebies from the Tour, merci beaucoup!

Despite their rugged looks, I witnessed these guys crying as we waited for the race...On account of some ridiculously hot French mustard!!!

Fittingly our final stop in France was it's most famous city Paris. A polarising city depending on who you talk to, we were lucky enough to have a small one bedroom apartment. We were also lucky to be sharing the apartment with a friend from Australia, Tom. Located outside the city centre we seamlessly slotted into local life. Heading to the unrivalled pâtisseries to buy fresh baguettes and crossaints. Stopping by the shops to buy is-this-shit-fo-real delicious camembert cheese and stumbling upon one of the best wines in all of Europe for a princely $2.50. From the outside looking in we probably looked quintessentially French. As soon as we opened our mouths and butchered the language we were clearly foreigners. Regardless, Paris is a truly special city. Despite its inherent touristy drawbacks it's big enough to escape the masses, allowing yourself to be mesmerised by its majestic and varied offerings.

Bursting with excitement at the final of le Tour de France

Yummy, delicious, absolutely scrumptious French sweets

Jump if you adore Paris!

Parlez vous Francais?

The city of love - Thomas hearts Julia!

Bonjour from the summit of le Tour Eiffel

After ticking off most of the touristy sights, Tom decided to spoil us and had arranged a day of, out-of-the-ordinary, Paris tourist sights. So we quickly found our selves watching pornography at the erotic museum. Tom said the weirdest thing for him was the fact that he was watching pornography with somebody else and standing up too. He said he usually watches it alone, seated on a computer chair. Shortly after this sexual enlightenment we made our way to the vampire museum. We were picked up at the station by an immediately obviously eccentric man who walked us to his house, the museum. We were sat in a small room full of vampire memorabilia and for the next two hours, indoctrinated in all things vampire from folklore to modern representations. Far from weirded out, Tom and I were genuinely intrigued and chatting with such a passionate and knowledgeable man made the whole experience at once amusing, insightful and just plain fantastic!

But the whole day was topped off when Tom took us to a restaurant where you eat the entire meal in the pitch black dark. You are served by legally blind waiters and the food served varies in texture, temperature and taste. Overall the meal itself was quite good but the experience of essentially (although temporarily) losing your sense of sight was quite unique and incredible. For me, each mouthful of food was filled not only with food, but immense apprehension. Where is the plate? Is this a knife? What is this? Have I just dropped it? I don't know! After getting over the bizarre sensation and bouts of anxiety I began to have some fun. Stealing Tom and Julia's cutlery. Smearing ice cream on Tom's supple skin. After starting the day watching pornography and being exposed to bizarre sexual fantasies and fetishes, it was as if the whole day had done a complete u-turn as we frolicked and flirted in this intimate and romantic Parisian setting.

Is it a bird....is it a plane....?

....no it's an incredibly big crowd visiting Mona!

So sparkly!!