It’s been over 10 years since I first (and last) visited the Louvre Museum. I was in Paris with my best friend at the time. We were on a bus tour of Paris and Brussels…we got there by bus too, from our hometown in northern Spain. It was dirt cheap – and it included hotel accommodation and meals as well. The catch? Well, the trip was organised by a certain political party my best friend was a member of. For me to go, I’d have to pass as his girlfriend. This was easy because we’d known each other for 6 years by then and were obviously close. We also had lots in common, which made things easier: we both loved Madonna, his grandma’s jewels, putting on high heels and learning to roller-blade! Need I say more 😉
When we arrived in Paris, we were on a mission: see as much as we could in the 8 hours we’d be in the capital. There wasn’t a moment to lose, sit-down lunch was for pussies as we could walk and eat at the same time. Genius. And so we walked like no other tourists have I don’t think… fueled by our insatiable appetite for Paris in every possible manner. As for the Louvre, we also economised our visit: we’d arrive late enough that tickets would be cheaper AND we knew our 3 stops: (1) the Mona Lisa (2) the Victory of Samothrace (3) the Raft of the Medusa. They were all near each other so it was very easy to be in and out of the Louvre in approx 30 minutes.
The rest of our bus had agreed to meet up for a group dinner before heading back to Spain. But my friend and I decided not to go and do our own thing: walk to the Pont de l’Alma, where Lady Di had found her tragic end. By the time we got back to the bus, everyone felt betrayed that we’d decided to ditch dinner plans with them [And that’s why going on political organised trips is such a dumb idea]. But things got even worse during the overnight journey back home… You see, they’d all had a severe case of food poisoning from the Parisian dinner they’d had, and practically everyone ended up throwing up in brown paper bags all the way back! Everyone that is, except for my friend and I. And we probably have never felt more smug in our entire lives. MWAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!
You may wonder if our little lie was uncovered… Truth is, it wasn’t. But it was painful to see the women in the trip talk about the signs they’d seen, but not be able to add 2 and 2 together. “You know, relationships are hard”, one would tell me, “but it looks like you have a lot of trust in each other”. This comment was uttered after my friend was outrageously flirting with the driver of our bus. “He’s practicing his French very well, don’t you think?” said another, when my friend (who does NOT speak a word of French) was chatting up the bellboy of our hotel in Brussels.