Stumblin' in (Paris)

Today's title is in honour of our Metro driver.

The Bastille Markets and the Luxembourg Gardens

Today was Cait's day.  We slept late - well as late as possible given there is a reconstruction of the building next door.  The workers were late and didn't start yelling at each other until 8am.

Jayne and I continued the routine: down to the bottle bank to recycle and then to the artisan boulanger for croissant, pain-au-chocloat and baguette, or some derivative of same.  This morning we detoured via the marche to buy a few things.  There was only one checkout open when we joined the queue and the woman who arrived after us clearly wasn't happy with lining up.  They opened a second register, but it was a central queueing situation.  Not wanting to wait she pushed past us, had a conversation with the nanna in front of us and pushed in front of her.  Nice work, she'd gone from a distant last to third.  Meanwhile we stayed left and our line began moving.  The person who was first in line at the new register had a 'price check'.  Not moving.  People were getting agitated.  The nanna who was originally in front of us swapped back to our line.  Jayne offered for her to go before us.  She declined.  We sailed through the checkout and as we were leaving I turned to smile at the pushy 'entitled' cow who was still stalled (see what I did there?) at her checkout.  Justice.

Jayne's version of food heaven

After breakfast and some unsuccessful phone attempts home and Cait's successful Skype call, we set out (on foot, again) for the markets.  Jayne and I were issued with strict instructions to stay behind Cait because she was shopping.  Serious business this.

We made successful purchases to take back home as presents as well as fresh produce: tomatoes and cheese.  The cheese is unlike anything we get at home.  We purchased two different types to last the next week.  €30 what a bargain!  I wouldn't spend that much on cheese in three months at home.  But then, I don't really eat it at home either, just over here.

With the cheese safely stored in the fridge back at the apartment, we ventured out on the metro for the Jardin du Luxembourg.  The Metro proved challenging because of the driver we had.  He was so erratic, quick enough off the mark to throw people about the carriage and when applying the break he had the same effect.  Just when you thought it was safe to move toward the door he would slam the brakes on send people stumbling into each other and through the doors.  I remarked that he must have been a Parisienne cab driver and was re-trained for the Metro ... did you see what I did there?

By the time we reached the gardens it was lunch time, although a large part of the day seems to be lunch over here - so civilised.  The sun was shining, the clouds had disappeared and the people were in the gardens.  We explored for a while and then found a cafe at which to have our lunch.  The cafe was in the shade of a grove of trees near le Pavillon de la Fontaine and we enjoyed a delightful lunch and conversation until a large group of tourists commandeered several tables within smelling distance.  Cait enquired of Jayne in a whisper whether the use of deodorant was a cultural thing.  L'addition was called for, we paid and headed for some chairs in the sun - where the air was clearer.  There we continued our people watching including the conduct of a failed pick up attempt and the procession through the gardens of a fairy floss colour haired nanna.

A castro oil plant? That's a weed at home

On the way back to the Metro we passed a costume shop, but not like in Australia.  They had real period pieces.  Cait purchased a mask (see the picture below) and then we stumbled upon a cafe/restaurant that Dad had read about in the paper.  Now we know where it is, we might get back there and try it out.

On the way home I decided to find a bottle shop that sells Larmandier-Bernier Champagne.  Having carefully researched the situation and mastered the secret arondissement code, I located a retailer within 800 metres of the apartment.  Out of the metro straight there, by memory.  Anyway, I dismissed the bottle shop Jayne pointed out because I believed it wasn't the number I was looking for ... wrong.  So, with sore feet, I made us walk another 500 metres and then back again, to find out that he doesn't stock their wine so much anymore.

Back home, to finish last night's blog and this one and download the photos etc and Skype Dave because he never sleeps.

Cait wearing the mask she bought today.