11 January 2016
Our first port of call Noumea was slightly underwhelming. Rather than do a ship tour (yes I’m still having nightmares of cattle herding experiences past) we decided to stroll the town and visit a bakery for some French cakes. Not sure if Alzheimer’s had set in or I’d got a vivid imagination, but I’m sure I read somewhere that the town of Noumea was made up of beautiful French architecture.
It’s been a few years since I’ve visited France but I’m pretty sure we didn’t stumble across anything vaguely representing France. Actually I thought I’d stumbled across a concrete jungle.
So with my mental status in question we hiked (throwing that word around loosely) up a hill to visit the cathedral and stumbled across Chinatown on our search for a bakery. It looked like disappointment was going to join my memory loss as the illusive bakery couldn’t be found.
With a face like thunder (that look just before tantrum sets in) I drag my feet in the direction of the ship with the odd moan and groan. Thanks to Simon taking the long way back (yes I was cursing the extra block), low and behold, up ahead a patisserie sign shines from the heavens!
And boy did I find myself in heaven. Three delicious cakes later (Simon’s had a rum shot to make him a bit tipsy) and I was back to being a happy camper…..cruiser!
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