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Paris!
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1 | As the plane touched down at Gatwick Airport I realised, with a sense of satisfaction, that I had "made it" and I remembered how it started. | |
2 | One evening last March, someone in the Ward above mine opened a door. A radio was on and I could hear the dreamy voice of Ella Fitzgerald singing "April in Paris." As the door slammed shut, I sud-denly thought -- April in Paris -- why not? I had been to Brighton and Southend last year, so why not try something more ambi-tious? We could fly to Paris, something I had always wanted to do. Surely it would not be all that difficult to arrange, but, as it turned out, this was the understate-ment of the year. | |
3 | Owing to the extent of my disability -- I am a respiratory polio, paralysed from the neck down (which is preferable to being paralysed from the neck up) -- it was going to be necessary to take a considerable amount of equipment. Not least were a port-able respirator, 12 volt batteries, a port-able suction machine, oxygen and a wheel-chair. It was impractical for me to stay overnight in Paris, which meant we had to get there and back in one day. | |
4 | We fixed the date for the last Fri-day in April. My first idea was to hire the same car which I had used on previous occasions and fly it over by Silver City Airways, with me inside. When I looked into this, I discovered that there is no car ferry di-rect to Paris, only as far as the coast. So, with a 175 mile drive after that, we would get there just in time to start home. So we had to think again. | |
5 | At this point it was considered advis-able to bring in some outside assistance, so I got in touch with the Travel Depart-ment of the British Red Cross. They were extremely helpful, but more and more com-plications mounted up. In the end, we de-cided to throw expense to the winds, fly over in a chartered aircraft and send the car over by sea the day before. Then we all sat back and waited for the day. | |
6 | But, alas, the French, or was it the Algerians, decided to have a revolu-tion. Consequently, we had to post-pone our trip. The next convenient date for everyone was in June. "Everyone" meant the car hire peo-ple, the Aircraft Co., and those coming with me -- a doctor, a nursing sister, a physiotherapist and a hospital porter. | |
7 | Flying over Paris was an experience I do not think I shall ever forget, and somehow the haze which covered the city made it even more im-pressive. Above the haze I could see the Eiffel Tower. I wondered, would we manage to get to the top? | |
8 | We had a hectic six hours' sightseeing ahead of us, so as we left Le Bourget by car to drive to the cen-ter of Paris we made sure our first stop would be to sample some French cuisine. This we did at the fash-ionable Bagatelle restaurant (above). | |
9 | It is not everyday, I am sure, that the Eiffel Tower has to cope with the likes of us, so we warned there of our intended arrival by telephoning from the restaurant, This was a job for the interpreter, our French vocabulary being confined to about a dozen words between us. | |
10 | After lunch we did a quick tour of the city, taking in Notre-Dame, the Left Bank, Champs-Elysees and Arc de Triomphe. In order for me to be able to go up the Eiffel Tower, I had to change from the stretcher on which I had been travelling to my wheel-chair. This feat was performed in the courtyard of the British Embassy. | |
11 | At the Eiffel Tower, we entered the first of the three lifts that were to take us to the top -- 1e etage, 2e etage, 3e etage, et voila (see cut). I was struck by the magnificent view of the French capital. There were buildings everywhere, lining the narrow streets and the crowded boulevards. Look-ing from this great height I could pick out Notre-Daxne, The Invalides, the Sorbonne, The Louvre, Sacré-Coeur, and winding its way through the city into the distance, the Seine. This was Paris -- Paris, the city of grandeur and gaiety. | |
12 | As the deafening roar of the engines gradu-ally died away and the aircraft came to a standstill, I could hardly believe I had been so far and seen so much in such a short space of time. In another hour or so I would be back in my iron lung and the day's adventure would be over. |