The Exposition Tim Burton is running until August 2012 and is a celebration of the American film director’s artistic career. On display are literally thousands of his hand-drawn pictures of the characters from all of his films, books and animations – some of which have turned into the characters we recognise well today and some who have never made it to the big screen and have almost been long lost. From looking at all Burton’s pictures it’s obvious that he’s a man who can’t sit still and has to doodle at every opportunity. The walls of this exhibition aren’t covered in canvases, ornate frames and fancy art materials like other galleries – here there are pages torn out of notebooks, monsters drawn on hotel-branded writing paper and an entire wall full of napkins covered in characters drawn in different coloured biro pens. Whilst he has also done some incredible paintings, most of Burton’s artwork is done simply in coloured pencil. It’s so basic that it becomes quite spectacular.

Towards the end of the exhibition are figures, drawings and props from some of Tim Burton’s more famous creations – films such as Corpse Bride, the Nightmare Before Christmas, Sleepy Hollow, Alice in Wonderland, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands all feature – including the actual suit and scissor-laden glove that Johnny Depp wore when filming the latter, and the set of barber’s blades used by the same actor in Sweeney Todd. It was definitely a very interesting and inspiring exhibition to look round – I came away from it feeling quite creative and also astounded by how productive one man could be in a lifetime. Perhaps by the time I’m his age my collection of hand-sewn items will be just as impressive!

I took Laura to Montmartre and to my usual haunt – the Coquelicot Cafe. In hindsight, going to the only place in Paris that requires walking up steep hills when I’ve not eaten anything was probably not the best idea. Anyway, we had a lovely lunch there and I even managed to get some solid calories (a slice of pizza and two lettuce leaves) down me.

As Laura’s already been to Paris and seen all the typical sights, we decided not to spend the afternoon trekking down the clichéd route between the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame and instead headed up to the rooftop of the Galeries Lafayette. I came here only on Saturday with another friend so knew it’d be a good spot to have a sit down and see all the sights of Paris from one location. Plus the day was a lot clearer than the previous visit so I was able to get a few better photographs of the fairly impressive skyline.

By this point I was starting to flag a bit so our next move was to hop back on the metro towards Chatelet – and towards the gelateria I have mentally mapped in my mind. A pot of strawberry sorbet later and my sore throat was feeling considerably better. Laura tried the local delicacy Nutella ice cream too. Unfortunately I then had to leave her to get back home in time to pick the boys up from school – but I’m more than sure she spent the rest of the day doing suitably cultural activities. Laura’s in Paris until Saturday (when we’ll both take the same flight back to England) so I’ll be seeing her again on Friday for my very last day here. Let’s just hope that I’ve left enough petrol in the car to last me one more trip to the station!

Anyway, despite waking up on Sunday morning with a sore throat and headache, I decided to ignore it and headed out the house to meet Edna for brunch. We went to one of Paris’ famous tearooms – Angelina’s – on Rue de Rivoli. The cafe-come-patisserie was originally opened in the early 1900s and soon became a place frequented by French aristocracy, fashion designers and artists. The interior is decorated in a luxurious belle epoque style and the menu available is more than decadent – and quite expensive. It reminded me a lot of Betty’s Tearoom in Harrogate, England, except the food and design here are very French rather than very English.

Angelina’s is most famous for it’s chocolat chaud l’africain - an incredibly rich hot chocolate made in a traditional way. We ordered a cup each and it arrived looking like molten chocolate in a big jug and accompanied by a little pot of whipped cream. It was lovely but we both left feeling very sick and equally as poor – €7,90 is a fair amount for a drink, even if it is well sought after… I also ordered an apple turnover (Edna ordered a coffee pastry) which was just as lovely but again pretty rich – something we are both definitely now not.

This little brunch was the last time I’d see Edna whilst au-pairing in France. I’ve no doubt that if I come back to Paris by the end of the year I’ll meet up with her, but that feeling of the unknown is always daunting. I’ve learnt a lot about local French cuisine from her and will definitely miss our weekly lunches and life-sharing! A bientot!

By some happy co-incidence, today also marks what would’ve been Robert Doisneau’s 100th birthday. I didn’t learn this until after I’d been to his exhibition but it’s a nice fact to know all the same. Doisneau was born in 1912 and is famous for his photographs of regular Parisians going about their daily lives. He took most of his pictures between World War II and the 1970s, capturing many eccentric characters and busy locations around the French capital city. The photos that are currently on display at Hotel De Ville (until 28th April 2012) show his work in Paris Les Halles – the once bustling marketplace employing more than 5000 people and with about just as many stalls. The images show the transition Les Halles made from a market pavilion in the early 1900s to the shopping centre that currently stands in its place today. It was an interesting exhibition to walk around and it’s easy to see why Doisneau’s photographs remain so popular today – he did a great job of effortlessly capturing all those tiny moments and details of history that usually go amiss.

After having satisfied our cultural hunger, (and had a caffeine fix at Starbucks) we then headed onwards to do a bit of shopping. We spent a good hour in the Bazar de l’Hotel de Ville looking at French kitchen paraphernalia, art and craft materials and buttons and then Kat showed me towards Galeries Lafayette on Boulevard Haussman. Galeries Lafayette is an enormous 10-floor department store in the 9th Arrondissement of Paris and is like the French version of Harrods or Selfridges in London. Once you’ve waded through floors and floors of designer shoes, clothes, perfumes and handbags you come across an entire floor of tourist souvenirs and the staircase up to the rooftop. At the top is an (almost) panoramic view over Paris. We sat down on one of the plastic benches on the plastic grass and talked for a little while in the sun.

I had a really nice day with Kat – it’s so lovely to have a friend from the same country to talk about things with. I suppose she’s been like a little piece of home away from home! Luckily we come from the same country so it won’t be too hard to visit each other in the future – and I’ll certainly look forward to it.

On Tuesday I even had to dig out my 3-year-old’s umbrella as it was raining too much for him to use his bike. For Angus, this is almost akin to going out without an arm, but he enjoyed the novelty of walking alongside me and my parapluie all the same.

Wednesday is the day when the boys are off school (some really illogical French idea) and the day feels a bit like an entire week rolled into about 12 hours. Even if I’m not needed to do much with the kids, time always seems to go backwards on a Wednesday. This week I took Angus to the park for half an hour in the afternoon when there was a glimpse of sunshine – only for it to pour it down moments after. I also had a phone call from a job I applied for asking me to go in and meet them once I’m home in England…

Today I had my final French lesson in Paris and did the school run with the boys as normal. During after-school snack time my 6-year-old Edgar’s front tooth fell out (from eating bonbons I might add) so I used my best French to explain to him the story of England’s tooth fairy. In France they have a similar story about a little mouse - la petite souris - based on a 17th Century fairytale. The original tale is about a fairy who turns into a mouse and helps the Queen defeat an evil king by hiding under his pillow. Today, the ‘Tooth Mouse’ does the same good deed as the Tooth Fairy and simply exchanges the fallen tooth for a coin. I guess we’ll see whether this is true come the morning!

Tomorrow (and Monday) I have the whole day at home with the 3-year-old because Nanny Brigitte is on holiday. I have to drive with him to the bank in the morning to close my account here and if it’s sunny I’ll try and exhaust him at the park too. I’m also hoping I might get the chance to do a bit of baking for Isabelle if he’ll sit quiet for an hour or so… I can but hope.

To begin with – we had no idea what a galette actually was. Despite being in France for the past few months this word had bypassed all 3 of us and presented us with a bit of a challenge when trying to choose what we wanted to eat from the menu. I chose ‘galette avec oeuf, fromage, jambon et champignon’ and hoped for the best.

Breton is the celtic language spoken in Brittany, France and is (apparently) closely related to Welsh and Cornish. The word galette translates literally as ‘cake’ and is used in France to describe anything vaguely circular and cake-like – in this case, the word galette is used to mean a savoury pancake. Ours came folded up like envelopes with our chosen fillings encased within and a square of butter on top. It was surprisingly nice.

As it’s Easter Monday (and also the last time I’ll see Deborah before I go home to England) we decided to splash out and get a dessert each too. Deborah and Elina helped themselves to the incredibly French delicacy of crepes avec Nutella (the French love their nutty chocolate spread – if there’s ever going to be an end to true French cuisine then it’ll be down to this stuff) and I had some vanilla and coffee ice cream to help with my sore throat. Pancakes for both main and dessert also sounded a little intense, even for a crepe-lover like myself.

I’m really glad I dragged my cold-ridden self out of the house to meet up with my favourite Swedes – I’m definitely going to miss them and all the other lovely people I’ve met here. Hopefully it won’t be long before I can jet around the world and pay a visit to each and every one of you!

This Easter Saturday I spent the afternoon in Paris with Edna. We went to visit the Coutume Café coffee shop on the left bank of the Seine – both to sample some of the high-regarded coffee and also to have a bit of lunch and a catch up. The cafe can be found on Rue de Babylone near to Sevres-Babylone metro station and down the road from Le Bon Marche department store. We ordered our lattes and I had scrambled eggs and toast to eat too (œufs brouillés is scrambled egg in French – useful for when you’re out and about for breakfast). The prices were perhaps a little costly for the amount you got, but it was lovely all the same! There’s also the option to buy bags of the various coffee beans they use – all stored in huge containers behind the counter. I’d like to have known a bit more about the coffee whilst I was there though. As lovely as my latte was, the menu seemed fairly basic considering they had all these crazy coffee-brewing contraptions and beans around the shop. I was expecting a bit more choice. Anyhow, it was still a nice place to visit – particularly for brunch.

After we’d eaten we went and had a wander around Le Bon Marche department store and spent a good half an hour looking at all the Easter chocolates and pastries (and also trying to avoid all the people dashing around buying last minute Easter gifts). If the food there wasn’t so expensive I’m sure I could have easily bought a few kgs worth of chocolate chickens! Perhaps not so good for my inflight baggage allowance though… not that I could make them last that long. We also had a lovely walk through the streets of Paris up past the Hotel des Invalides and towards the Eiffel Tower. The spring flowers here are so pretty, it’s easy to see why so many people love the city in the springtime. This is definitely the real reason I came to Paris…

There’s currently an exhibition on at the museum (until Sept 2012) about the collaboration between the fashion designers Louis Vuitton and Marc Jacobs. You can read all about the history of Louis Vuitton – including how he designed his world-reknowned suitcases, how his son created the famous ‘LV’ print and how Marc Jacobs (as artistic director) has kept the collection running today. It’s interesting to see how the prints have been created and patented – even as far back as the 1800′s Vuitton had patented the check-print on the exterior of his suitcases so as to avoid ‘inferior imitations’. It makes you think twice about buying that knock-off €10 handbag when you know this much effort has gone into protecting the brand!

The other temporary exhibition definitely worth a mention is the ‘Histoires de Babar’ display (until Sept 2012). Two rooms have been dedicated uniquely to the little elephant in a green suit. Babar the elephant was first created in France in 1931 by artist Jean de Brunhoff. You can see lots of the original drawings and books, some of the more modern interpretations and lots of cuddly toys. All were just as adorable as you can imagine! I hate to say it, but I absolutely have more interest in children’s storybook characters than ancient china pots and tapestries – just don’t tell anyone or it’ll ruin that cultured look I’ve been trying to maintain since I got here.

It was great to spend another day with Kat before we both leave for England in the coming month – and it’s just as satisfying to cross another thing off my Paris bucket list. I’ve got a few more adventures planned for the rest of the Easter weekend to keep me busy but, in the meantime, Joyeuses Pâques!

Not wanting to waste my final days therefore, today I went into the area of Paris called Le Marais – the name literally means ‘marsh’ in French, but the streets there now are far removed from their namesake. Narrow streets, intricate balconies, cobbled roads and vintage shops prevail here alongside the multitude of falafel restaurants and art galleries. It’s a lovely little area to wander around and, from experience, is usually filled with American and Swedish tourists trying to sample a bit of ‘real French history’. The first time I came here (and as you can see from the nice photograph of myself) was to try some of the infamous €5 falafel with my lovely friend Edna – she’d heard about the place and wanted to try it out. I wrote a bit about it previously here. I also came to visit the vintage shops with my friend Elina a while back too.

Today though I went to visit the area with Keira – she’s flying back to Ireland on Saturday and I wanted to see her before she leaves. We went for lunch (croque monseiurs of course) at a cafe by the St Paul metro stop and then had a little wander around some of the shops. We had a lovely time and it was great to see Keira before she goes home at the weekend. Unfortunately the weather today has been cold and rainy, otherwise we would’ve done a little more exploring and taken a few more blue-skyed photos. Perhaps it’s trying to remind me of what I’ll be returning home to in a fortnight’s time…

The truth is a feeling that I really can’t shake. No matter how many wonderful  buildings I visit, how many pieces of art I appreciate, how many boulangeries artisanales I eat at or how many lovely people I meet along the way… the truth is that I’d rather be at home. I feel guilty that I feel like this; I’m so lucky to be able to spend all my days in this incredible city, right?

Perhaps this is a case of too much of a good thing.

Everyday I try my hardest to appreciate my surroundings. I think this blog is proof of that. But I just can’t snap out of the homesickness.

I’d like to thank all the people who’ve helped me along – I appreciate every single word and every single moment that you’ve spared me. Thanks to Kat for inventing ‘Museum Friday’ and taking me to WHSmith to buy English crisps. Thanks to Katie for all the magazines and chatting to me online. Thanks to Elina and Deborah for joining me for lunch and adopting me as an honorary Swede. Thanks to Keira for being there all the time at the last minute. Thanks to Imren for helping me out since day 1. Thanks to Edna for being a shoulder to cry on and for letting me drink tea and make biscuits in your apartment. Thanks to everyone back at home for allowing me to pester you constantly on Facebook and Skype when I’m lonely – there are too many of you to name. Thanks to my mum, dad, grandma and sisters for letting me call you in a blind panic and for helping to calm me down. Thanks to Isabelle for holding my hand when things get too much. Thanks to all the people living around the world who have helped me with their stories of moving abroad. Thanks to the entire Petty family for not thinking I’m completely insane by calling their eldest son every 10 minutes. Thanks to all of you who read my blog – updating it inspires me to try and make the most of the opportunities I have. And thank you to Chris for always being there, Skyping every night, always trying to cheer me up and for never getting impatient. You all mean more to me than you could possibly imagine.

I realise this post sounds like I’ve given up – and perhaps I almost have… but not quite. I’m back in England for a holiday in 17 days so I’m going to try my hardest to soldier on and keep my chin up until then and give it one last try. I have friends to see, a patchwork blanket to make and a lot of thinking to do in the meantime though…