I’m not in Paris…

An odd title for a blog post, but one that is unfortunately true. I was meant to be in Paris this weekend to watch Ireland play France in the Six Nations tournament.That was obviously postponed due to Coronavirus fears, but I and my two friends decided to meet up anyway. 

We all went to university in Dublin together and rarely get the chance to catch up as we’re now living in three different countries. in any event, our travel was booked and so we made plans.

I was really looking forward to a trip on the Eurostar, the most civilised way to get to Paris from London. I was looking forward to a couple of excellent meals, some drinks and copious laughter.

And now? I’m sitting on my sofa at home in London, flicking through various social media streams and wondering how I’m going to spend my weekend.

One of the gang had to remain in Ireland due to his wife and kids coming down with the (non-Corona) flu. Then, last night, we basically found out that the AirBNB my friend had booked in Paris was a scam. No response from the ‘owner’ despite repeated attempts and now the contact number is a Ukrainian mobile.

Not a good sign.

We called it off last night and while I’m pretty disappointed, I’m glad we discovered the accommodation situation before I arrived. I’m hoping I can use my Eurostar tickets later in the year, when hopefully the world has calmed down a little. Hopefully.

For now, it’s an afternoon on the sofa, sipping coffee and catching up on my Netflix and Amazon Prime queues. And maybe, just maybe, dipping in to my beer stockpile later in the day…

I’ve just realised I’m unintentionally self-isolating and it feels fabulous. After a very busy week, including a business trip to Dublin which Coronavirus also cut short, I feel like I’m due some downtime.

The heating’s on, there’s no need to go grocery shopping and I’ve no errands to do. I can enjoy my own company for a couple of hours while TheFrankFlyer is out shopping. Nothing to do but relax.