Girl's trip to Paris - just don't mention the rugby.

Picnic in the park. No, I'm not having twins.

Obligatory Paris photo.

Last weekend I bade Andy and Daisy farewell and flew off to Paris to meet my friends Ruth and Laura for our annual Girl's Christmas celebration. It's a little early for Christmas but we had to hold it early thanks to my rapidly expanding girth. Unfortunately, normal Girl's Christmas attendees Jules and Fen were unable to make it but Ruth and Laura Eurostarred in from London and we had a fabulous time.

We stayed at Le Meridien Etoile which was brilliantly located near the Arc de Triomphe and a short stroll from our favourite shopping haunt, Champs Elysee. I arrived earlier on the Friday night than the girls so had an early night then Saturday saw us hit the shops. Perfect weather meant we were able to enjoy pizza in the park for lunch followed by more shopping. I headed back to the hotel for a rest and to watch England beat the Aussies at rugby then the evening saw us glammed up in the Latin Quarter for champagne, dinner and watching the AB's lose to France. Very disappointing but it was lovely to see all the French wildly celebrating. Not. It was an interesting trip back to the hotel. The streets were filled with absolutely hammered dancing singing crowds, people falling off bikes and cars crashing in to each other. In order to get on to the Arc de Triomphe our taxi driver had to drive on to it going the wrong way. Anyone who has ever driven there can imagine how scary that was but he got us back to the hotel safely in the end.

We had all day Sunday to chill out so went for a walk along the Left Bank of the Seine followed by lunch and yet more shopping on Champs Elysee then leisurely coffee. It was so nice to catch up with the girls and relax. As much as I love being at home Daisy it was wonderful to take a couple of days to do things at my own pace and not be constantly thinking about if she is hot/tired/bored/hungry etc. We talked on the phone lots over the weekend and she seemed to understand that I was coming back and had a great time hanging out with Daddy.

It was a night flight back on Sunday. I'm pretty ginormous which caused concern for the plane staff. I got stopped on the way on to the plane and asked when I was expecting (and patted!!) then when I sat down someone came and found me to quiz me on exactly how many weeks I was and if I'd had any problems and how I was feeling at that point (fat and uncomfortable actually) but thankfully they didn't kick me off the plane. Phew!

Bx