In February we went to Paris and we visited the palace of Versaille. 

It was a cold morning at the beginning of February. We stepped of the bus to fell the cold air in our faces. We stumbled through the cold air along the cobble road. We were moaning about the cold and stumbling around as we hadn't had a good nights sleep, with being on the bus for ages. We came to the top of the hill and stopped and our mouths fell open with shock at how big the palace was, and how beautiful the statues were around it. 

The minute we steeped into the long corridors filled with history with were thrown back in time, back to when the women wore long elegant dresses, back to the day men were handsome and proud, back to the time when there was disorder all over France, back to the French revolution.

We visited the garden which were packed  with so much beauty that it was amazing. There were long flower beds that went on out of sight, lakes surrounded by statues of lions and warriors that protected the waters.

We walked down the long corridors that the king of France had once done himself. We saw the grand paintings of him and his family hanging on the walls, in a frame of gold.

We learnt about the history that had gone on there and the peoplewho had lived there.