The trend with padlocks has certainly not escaped Paris. This bunch were crammed onto an embedded ring in the wall at the Quayside of the Ile de la Cite.
Dad and I over-exerted ourselves following the river trip and the tour. We had taken a bus to the Ile in the hope of visiting St Chapelle but the queues prevented us from entering. So we wandered the streets, first finding a café for facilities and a welcome ice cream , then stopping at the Square de la Place Daphine to observe the locals playing petanque. We wound our way across the Ile circumventing the now closed Notre Dame with its heavy scaffolding as it awaits repair from the horrific fire damage. we paused again on the far side of the cathedral where a memorial to the Martyrs of the deportation stands in a quiet garden, away from the crowds.
Next we continued on our way across to the main land, passing these locks along the route.
Weariness overwhelmed my poor father towards the end of the afternoon - we had sought out the Pompidou centre successfully but were having an epic fail in finding the metro station to get ourselves back to the hotel. My gratitude goes out to those lovely people who stopped to try and help us. In the end, a young French man went off and located the nearest entrance for us, then came back to get us and led us to the stairway. Several others had done their best to point us in the right direction, but it would seem that the confusions of the multiple unmarked entrances to Chatalet was all too much for not only us, but the natives too.
Sounds familiar! All that walking! I get so exhausted and annoyed. Still, in Paris and trying to see a lot, that is what happens! I was helped by a very nice Frenchman while I was heaving my suitcases up the steep stairs from the train. He took my heavy bag up to the top for me!!!
@maggiemae we found the French to be very respectful of the older generation. They always made way for Dad, gave up seats, took him to the front of the queues and generally tried to help.
