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Friday: Porridge for breakfast at Leeds-Bradford airport, Berthillion ice-cream for supper in the Rue St-Louis En L'Isle.
My 18-years-ago A-level French is actually comprehensible to French people! (Who mostly switched to English at once).
I was asked what I was eating twice in one day. "Croque monsieur" was much easier to explain than "buckwheat pancake with tomato, potatoes, bacon, and a fried egg on top and spamchicken gizzards".
Paris looks ridiculouly like London, only more sort of French.
Mmm, patisserie.
I got so Louvred out. Did you know they have four Rembrandt self-portraits? That's just showing off. The Winged Victory of Samothrace was cool, so was suddenly bumping into a Holbein in a side room, so were some animal studies by some painter I'd never heard of. The Grand Salon of Napoleon III: Not understatement. When they said "A salon, and make it grand!" in the Second Empire, they meant "Fucking Grand, OK?"
Notre-Dame is really small.
I was staying in an undistinguished suburb near the business district. My hotel was on the high street. Within two blocks, among the key-cutters and pharmacy and banks and small supermarkets, were two greengrocers, two butchers, a charcuterie-traiteur and a plain traiteur, (who ready-make food on the premises for you to to take home and cook), a cheese shop, a wine shop, a chocolatier, four bistros, three bakery-patisseries and two artisan bakery-patisseries. Vive la cuisine.
The Marais and the Quartier Latin are nice antidotes to the homogenous boulevards thing.
Mmm, real French bread.
The Kindle did work brilliantly, I didn't miss toting half-a-dozen real books at all. Fanfic downloaded from AO3 was very useful for subway rides. (Speaking of which: I went on the metro and three separate sorts of suburban railway- what they call trams, which didn't seem to run along roads as you would expect trams to do but hey; the RER, which are the cool double-decker ones; and the SNCF's own suburban lines. Next trip I shall have to try for the Grandes-Lignes and a few buses.)
I like Pisarro more than I thought. My favorite things in the Musee D'Orsay were a toss-up between a Manet still life and the Art Nouveau living-room, though.
I have a nasty foreign cold and some nice foreign chocolates. I expect the cold will last longer.

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