Parking in Paris is an interesting experience. We found the hotel, and even found a car park opposite. Nic looked at it and determined there was no way we would fit in. I looked at it and concurred. The hotel manager looked at it and said "No problem". That comment preceded an 15 point park, nudging our little Kangoo into the narrowest of spots. And you know what? The manager was right. The Kangoo fitted in. Just. With 2cm to spare at the front and 5cm at the rear. Fantastic. Had to get a photo of that! Best of all - free parking in August!
The Hotel we stayed at, Hotel College de France, was awesome. The manager brilliant and as helpful as every other person we'd encountered, and right in the heart of the Latin Quarter. Five minute walk to Notre Dame, ten minutes to The Louvre.
That day we trundled down to The Louvre and, because it was tourist season, it was packed. And free entry. So wandered in, along with thousands (quite literally) of other people to see the Mona Lisa. I can't say I was disappointed, but Nic kind of hit the nail on the head when she asked "Was the atmosphere generated because of the painting, or because of the number of people coming to see the painting". Funny how it's built itself the reputation. I'd love to have spent more time in the Louvre, but for some reason, I was hating being in the crowded areas and was pretty tired. We left there and headed through the gardens at the back, making our way back to the hotel to get ready for dinner.
The next day in Paris was Nics opportunity to do some shopping, and my opportunity to do my "jobs". Unfortunately, after the trashing of the bike boxes when we arrived, we had to find new ones. This entailed first - finding a sports store. Second, trying to ask, in French, for a cardboard box for the bike, and then third, finding a hardware store and getting some packing tape. This was no mean feat.
The sports store is a "Go Sport". It's located in the forum des halles, which, unless you know where it is, can be a little difficult to find. I was told that it was a huge shopping complex. So, heading towards it and expecting a Myer or maybe a Melbourne Central style of shopping centre, I was somewhat suprised to see a big open space where it was meant to be. Somewhat confused I asked a local "Ou est forum des halles s'il vous plait?" and was pointed to a somewhat dingy set of escalators heading downstairs towards the metro. Heading down was a bit of a disappointment, and I have to say that the shopping malls in Australia are definitely better.
Into the Go Sport I went, and bumbling in my worst French ever I tried to explain that I need a "carton" or cardboard "boit" for my "velo". First they tried to sell me a soft case. Then, they realised I wanted something different, so they tried to sell me a hard case. Finally, after pointing to a cardboard box that contained a ceiling fan and being told my bike wouldn't fit in that, they realised what I was after. As soon as they realised, they called the manager, got approval, raced upstairs and told me to meet them at the front of the store. From there, they dragged out two cardboard boxes, exactly the right size for me. Perfect. I'm sure they were amused watching me try to cart those two boxes all the way back to the car. It was a long journey.
In the meantime, Nic was back burning the clothes in the local laundry clothes dryer. Finally we caught up, and decided that it was time to go for a wander to get some dinner. With that in mind, we decided that the metro out to Montemarte would be a fun way to do it, and sure enough, that's what we did. (By the way, the train had tyres! Weird!) We got to Montemarte and headed up to see Sacre Coeur and the Paris skyline - for me - a highlight. Then headed down from there and through the redlight district to find a place for dinner. 
The little cafe there served up a treat, with the waiter explaining that he'd arranged the sunset just for us. But it was definitely a bit of a battle trying to find a place to eat that was away from the tourists flooding in to see the Moulin Rouge and the other cabaret shows.
The last day was hard. First, it was a case of finding the local Bricolage to get some packing tape. Then it was off to the airport. Once again, driving through the centre of Paris, although by this time it was significantly easier, and then on the autoroute out to the airport. The guys at Eurodrive were brilliant. We met up again with the guy who helped us the first time, and once we'd repacked the bikes, it was time for him to drive us to the airport.
They say you speak your best French on your last day in France. They're right. Flirting with the lovely French lady behind the counter checking our bags in, I was able to distract her long enough to not notice that we were checking in 90kg of luggage. With that done, (and not quite getting her phone number - thanks Nic) we were through and onto the flight out of Paris. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a tear in my eye. A fantastic holiday in France, and I just can't wait to come back.
Next stop - Dubai - rest and recuperation at Wild Wadi.