Step aside, D'Artagnan, there's a new musketeer in town! As of Friday, I - along with my oh-so-awesome history class and our two amazing teachers - will be getting up at some god-forsaken hour of the early morning to jump aboard the Eurostar and make our way to ... PARIS!
Studying 16th Century France definitely has its perks. Especially as it means we worm our way out of a weekend that - whether we had wanted to go home or not - would have been spent on Dartmoor in the driving wind and rain.
The Duke of Edinburgh co-ordinator may hate my guts forevermore, but I don't care. I shall be happily sitting beneath wonderful Parisian architecture, smiling smugly over my sunglasses and eating my bodyweight in croissant, smelly cheese and escargot (which, contrary to popular belief, is actually exceedingly tasty).
Unfortunately, dear readers, this does mean you will be without me for a few days - I'm off to London to listen to David Starkey lecturing on Henry VIII tomorrow, and Thursday will be working, packing, and leaping into vats of cold chlorinated water in a bid to improve my physique before the easter holidays.
But, the good news is that I will doubtless come back with pictures. And - judging by my past luck with our darling Froggie pals across the Channel - some entertaining stories. I managed to near-decapitate a French mayor on my last skiing trip in Termignon ... let's see what sort of mischief I can get into this time, eh?
Try not to miss me too much ;)
- Charley R
P.S. Did I mention I can't speak French?