Picasso's mural in UNESCO (Paris) - he was so upset that UNESCO built a walkway near his artwork he refused to sign the painting.

UNESCO was fascinating, built in the 1960s it has original murals by Miro and Picasso and the view from the cafeteria was straight across to the nearby Eiffel Tower, a very stimulating atmosphere in which to work.

So how did I manage to travel from Paris to the Loire Valley and only upset a few people on the way - by just being me. We were having a reception at the Belgian Embassy when someone made me laugh, I was forced to put down the delicate little salmon mousse box (picture one mouthful of salmon mousse in a plastic box with a normal teaspoon). The teaspoon unbalanced the box, somersaulted and took the left over salmon mousse and flicked it on to the delicate sideboard just missing a photograph of the last king of Belgium. The Belgian lady nearest me peered imperiously down her long nose and without saying a word summed me up as a backward colonial (I don't think they have really got over the days of the Empire).

So the next day I order a 'coca lite' instead of coffee to follow our beautiful (French) onion soup - you don't say the French part in Paris - and the waiter was offended, he muttered something under his breathe which sounded like peasant, but couldn't have been as we are in a republic built on a peasant revolution, so I must have heard incorrectly.

And then there was the time that I was asleep on a lounge in the City Hall of Tours (in the Loire Valley) and I was poked awake by a security man who didn't speak English so he went to get the head of the building who decided that I may not be a bag lady (despite looking like one) as I was able to mutter UNESCO and he left me alone. Did I mention I was sick at the time? Only one problem with living closely with a group - when one person arrives with a shocking bug it spreads very quickly. Out of fifty students, 37 have been ill and the day we went to Tours was my day. I had to wait for the group and out of self preservation found a warm corner on a soft sofa - and lived to tell the tale.

So where am I able to write this blog - in the lobby of a 12th century Abbey in Fontevrauld (the burial place of Richard the Lionheart) which is about three hours east of Paris. We have been here for four days and return to Paris and UNESCO tomorrow. We have seen chateaux, discussed World Heritage Sites that only seem to record the life of Kings and Queens (so where did the peasants fit in?) and have travelled along the Loire River. The views of the beautiful old towns and the unique trogladyte cave dwellers were memorable but if you live here external decoration choices would be very easy - you can paint your house in any colour you like as long as it is cream. What would the Australian home owners say if there choices were so limited and controlled. We have been offered copious amounts of lovely food and have made many toasts in local red wine and real champagne. The French hosts here have been extremely generous and the atmosphere at the Abbey has been memorable. Early in the morning, in the thick mists before the sun has risen, you can almost see King Richard striding through the grounds of the Abbey. The next time I record any tales they will be from the Green Isle - in two days I will be in Dublin.