We're in Paris.

It took us 9 hours, 3 taxis, a bus and a train, but we're here, in the beautiful city of Paris. We're staying in an apartment which I rented through VRBO.com. When I was putting the trip together, I asked my DOH whereabouts in Paris he would like to stay, since he had been here more recently than me and I thought he might have a preference. He did. "Montemartre," was his very definite reply, "It has so much atmosphere". And then to seal the deal, he wooed me with romantic tales of how we would be where Lautrec, Gaugin and all the other artists had spent their time in Paris.

Suitably beguiled, I clicked the 'accept' button and the booking was made.

But he never mentioned that Montmartre is up a bloody hill. Now I realize there's a clue in the name, but I didn't really think it was going to be a mountain. I had more in mind a gently rising slope either, not the kind of place where you might need oxygen, or at least crampons on your boots to get you there.

So at the end of our first day, after getting up to the apartment (2 stories, no lift after climbing the 'hill'), walking the wrong way up too many streets because we had the map upside down and negotiating the Metro (more stairs), we were sitting outside Le Sacre Couer, exhausted, leg muscles on fire and feet aching. I studied the Paris skyline. It seemed remarkably flat.

"Erm, I'm just wondering," I said. "It looks like we're on the only hill in Paris."

"Yes, that's right." My Treasured One amiably agreed.

"You do realise that we could have stayed anywhere in Paris, don't you?" I asked somewhat tetchily.

"Oh yes," he replied, "But you'd have to come up here to see le Sacre Couer anyway."

" I understand that, " I grumped, "but we wouldn't do it every day, would we? We could have seen this once and then gone home to somewhere....level."

He carried on serenely surveying the view, impervious to my somewhat acid tone. "But Montmartre has so much atmosphere."

At that point, I think I wanted to seriously hurt him; as in, inflict some serious physical pain.

But later on, when we wandered back down the hill a bit and discovered one of the best jazz bands I've ever heard, busking in the square at Les Abesses, I decided that despite my complaining legs, he just might have a point. And we have one of the world's most beautiful buildings almost in our backyard. Really, that's hard to beat.