He took me to Paris.

No one has EVER done anything like this for me so I obviously managed to be completely overwhelmed by it.

It was absolutely brilliant - really, really good. Other than the rain that greeted us when we got there the weather behaved itself and was warm and even sunny for quite a lot of the time.

We did the whole tourist shebang and went to the Louvre and saw the Mona Lisa, walked along the Seine, saw Notre Dame, went up the Eiffel Tower (photos coming soon!) drank and ate all manner of French things (I think my favourite was a Croque Royal which was composed of toast, ham, tomatoes, cheese and a fried egg on top) as well as less touristy things like going for a picnic in the big park near our hotel. But it all went so bloody quickly!

The visit wasn't lacking in amusing moments either. I was wholly pleased to see a man taking his ferret for a walk, and in a bar we went to on Sunday night a drunk old French woman did some heavy flirting with my gar�on and even had the cheek to say 'Eef ah had known you vere coming I vould have let yeeeu ztay in ma flat! (Hohi hohi Hohee).'

A lot of my French (however poor it may be, at least I tried) came back to me over the few days and I had the pleasure of finding it chucklesome when the boyfriend asked in a serious manner for 'Deux tickets' at the Louvre. He pronounced it 'tickay' and maintains it's a credible alternative to the actual French word for ticket, which is billet. I don't care if he's right because it was funny to me.

I loved the way he kept it a secret too. We got to Waterloo and he told me we'd have to get a bus to somewhere before leading me round in a big circle outside the station then taking me back inside, as well as pretending to take me to various platforms before finally leading me towards the Eurostar. We went by train because he knows I don't like flying - now that is thoughtful. My thoughtful little petit pois, j'adore him.

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