Anchorage to Paris via Chicago

This post is dedicated to all those souls who sent emails or texts to find out if I had disappeared into a Parisian food market never to return! As you can see, I'm still here...I know it's been 5 weeks, but hey, give a blogger a break! Priorities, dear readers, priorities!!!

And so we pick up where we left off...saying goodbye to Anchorage...

A few tears were shed as I left the magical land of Alaska. My taxi driver on the way to the airport didn't help by pointing out the reason he had stayed in Alaska for the past 13 years and couldn't leave...one of those awesome Chugach mountains overlooking Anchorage!

Well it was time for me to go...I said my goodbyes to the main streets of Anchorage the night before as I roamed around at midnight snapping a few shots - you can see one of them there in the top picture...sigh.

I had a late flight the next day...rocked up to find it was delayed, but that's life...I headed outside for an hour just to watch the mountains - and took a billion boring pics of the airport surrounded by those magic mountains - that's the second pic.

And true to form, and with the encouragement of the kilt wearing Alaskan maniac sitting next to me on the flight, I took a few more up in the sky...the views were just incredible and pics 3 and 4 don't really do it justice...I finally put down the camera and waved bye bye, and settled back for my 5 hour flight to Chicago (where I would change for my Paris leg) - and it hit me...I was on my way to see HOS and the Princess!!! OH YEAH BABY!!!! PLUS I had a whole day in Chicago - and I was meeting a mate for breakfast at Eleven City Diner (recommended by my Alaskan foodie mate, Sarah)!! DOUBLE OH YEAH BABY!!!

Soooooooo...we landed in Chicago, a taxi was quickly jumped and I just made my date! As you can see from pic number 5, it was certainly worth the effort...OH MYYYYYYYY...it's the Eleven City Diner's breakfast specialty, Eleven City French Toast, "fresh baked challah, strawberries, bananas and toasted coconut"! And as any good french toast eater knows, it just isn't french toast unless you load it with pure maple syrup and a side order of bacon...I was getting the last of the American good stuff while I still could!!!

I'm drooling just thinking about it. Double sigh.

(Btw I'm writing this in a Lebanese cafe just off Oxford Street in London - munching on kibbeh and guzzling rosewater, lemon and lime lemonade and listening to Lebanese pop music)

My friend had to head to work (more like waddle to work I suppose), so she pointed me in the direction of what to see in a few hours! I wandered down to the Pier thingy, passing some wonderful food shops on the way...had a walk around to the "beach" - Chicago is on a big big lake - wandered around the city for a bit, then hopped the train back to the airport...and closer to my HOS!

The flight to Paris was a total hoot. I met the coolest chick on the way over - she was sitting next to me. She was 52, looked 40 (apparently helped by good genes and botox!) and had a 22 year old lover - god, I meet interesting people! We gas-bagged almost all the way to The City of Luuuuurve (notes were taken).

And then I was there. It was so odd. One minute I'm in the land of bears and salmon, the next I'm in the land of sexy accents, picturesque dirt and poodles in hand bags...it was sorta surreal.

None of that mattered, though...there was my HOS (with the Princess) waiting for me at the airport...a very mushy (embarrassingly so, for the Princess, I mean who wants to see their parents get all soppy and kissy kissy??!!) reunion was quickly followed with french donuts and espresso...I HAD ARRIVED IN EUROPE. CRIKEY.

The next phase begins....