Paris

We travelled to Paris on the Eurostar, Leisure Select, lots of champagne, but the chicken thighs left something to be desired. A different meal, in fact. We arrived at geek chic Kube Hotel, and got upgraded to a Junior Suite, which at my age is faintly ridiculous, Menopausal Suite is more like it. One blog, two glasses of wine, one cocktail, and a bath later we were heading out for supper. We stopped for another glass of wine at the retro Montalembert, for a taste of Rive Gauche style.

Supper was at Gaya, Pierre Gagnaire's fish restaurant. The waiter helpfully offered to translate the menu, but fell at the first fence by insisting that 'persil' was coriander. Joking aside, they were charming. Troy started with a 'Cremeux d'araignee,' spider crab with spider crab mousse, which was phenomenal. I opted for the 'Coeur d'artichaut Cesar,' which was a trifle weird, or indeed a weird trifle. Artichoke sorbet, layered with anchovy mousse, topped with an anchovy and parmesan sable, on a bed of rocket and chopped ham. An ingredient too far, I felt, but was uncertain which ingredient was redundant. The portions were satisfyingly large, allowing for much fork swapping.

Troy's main course was skate wings, topped with a citrussy, capery sauce that didn't call itself gremolata. I opted for 'Rouget de Roche,' perfectly cooked squares of red mullet in a curried bouillabaisee gelee. Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds strange, but it worked. Far too full for pudding, we chatted to the brace of Aussie doctors sitting next to us, while we finished our bottle of 2005 Languedoc Clapas.

Back to the hotel, for a final complimentary 'coupe de champagne.' I think I will now always claim to be honeymooning.

Great journey back. Troy got complimented on his Globetrotter, 'C'est vraiment chic,' and the Eurostar Dollies clearly didn't think for a second that we were English. Which is a bit sad, I'd like to be proud of being English, but am far happier when people assume I am not. I am always being asked if our neighbours in Montauroux hate us because we are English. Actually they love us, because we are not Parisian.