We went back to Oki-Eri and surprised Mr and Mrs Sato immensely but they were delighted to see us.

We are going again tonight and after this we expect them to invite us to go on holidays with them to Brest in the summer. Apparently we are entitled to this after eating three meals in their restaurant in the same week.

We trotted off to see a photographic exhibition by Marc Riboud and I was very impressed. It makes me ache to see photographs that good - although some of them could have been taken by me and he may have outsourced them to a small child standing nearby while he had a snifter in the nearest bar.

This child was short sighted and had St Vitus’ dance - or it could be art - what would I know. I love impressionist painting but it always seems to me that the artist has painted the scene while looking at it through a tea towel.

I like pictures that are like photos - give me a Constable every day.

But I am certainly not a Philistine. I like - for example - many forms of modern art and never walk past half a cow in a jar or a rat in aspic at the Tate Modern without looking in awe.

Anyway, on photography, suppressing the urge to drop my camera into the Seine I have decided to battle on and have some lessons.

When Henri comes to Vienna he will spend some time with me and in the meantime I will break all my own rules and read a book about photography.

The weather in Paris at the moment is delightful and it is clear that spring is coming. The beggars are blossoming all over the streets and there is at least one on every street corner. There may well be a regulation that requires every corner to have a beggar and if, they are short, one is provided by the Mayor.

In fact, this may be a way for the French to dig themselves out of the global financial crisis and I may write to Sarko.

The regulations in Vienna are that at least 50% of beggars must have a half crutch - which is much to small for them - so that they hunch over as they walk along. They don’t have this rule here and most of them are bone lazy - just sitting there with paper cups - Oh yes - very creative!

Dogs and cats are very popular props here and I wonder why this is not in fashion in Vienna? There are probably rules.

A young lady (the same one as a few days ago) tried the gold ring thing on me today but I dismissed her with a derisive ‘Vous voulez rire’ which (I think) is colloquial French for ‘you must be joking’.

She was very unhappy and left muttering at me so I am not so sure. I will check with Melissa. I might have called her toasted goat’s droppings or something like that. Anyway - it had the desired effect and the French people sitting next to me laughed loudly (which of course tends to favour the goat droppings theory).

Melissa and I had a wonderful time at Montmartre Cemetery. She acted as the beater and we took lots of photos of cemetery cats - many of whom were very obliging and posed for us.

We went back to the Cemetiere de St Vincent today but could only find one cat - who knows where they are today. They may be all being used as beggar’s props in Montmartre.

I have been disappointed - but not surprised - by the lack of ducks in Montmartre. This is a significant failing which is not compensated for the by surfeit of beggars, shysters, crooks, robbers, tarts, pickpockets, pimps, footpads, serfs, churls, villeins and touts.

Of course there is no water here - which would mitigate against an explosion of the duck population.