A writer's garrett



Well the staff at the Coquelicot were just delighted to see me and crowded around for all the news. They roared with laughter at my stories about Vienna and were fascinated by the exciting life we live there.

All of that of course is rubbish and the staff did what they always do and ignored me.

I did manage to make my usual spectacular mess with the Croissants but this is not all my fault. They serve them in a little basket and there is no plate so the only places the crumbs can go are on me, on the table and on the floor.

In Vienna pedestrians on crossings have right of way. I had forgotten that in Paris the crossings are designed to collect pedestrians in the one spot so that they can be mowed down more efficiently by impatient drivers. I have managed to avoid death narrowly and will be more circumspect.

The restaurants and bars here are bliss. There is no smoking at all. I had forgotten what it was like to be in a place like that and be entirely smoke free.
People who want to eat can do so without being enveloped in smoke and people who want to smoke can go outside – or drop dead – whatever suits them best.

There was a story in the Austrian Times last week about how the new smoking regulations in Austria are not working. They were never going to and are absolutely pointless. France has demonstrated that they can be made to work.
France - of all places - it's amazing!

Melissa and Henri and I went to a local Italian restaurant last night and then had a quick drink at her favourite local bar where we were able to watch Barcelona trounce Lyons. We did not get banned but then we only stayed half an hour.

They are renovating the hotel or some rooms or something. At 7:00 AM this morning the hammering and sawing started and has gone all day. The only relief is when they use the jackhammer because that makes my brain fizz and deadens all the other sounds.

Today we went for a walk around Montmartre and went through one of the many African quarters in Paris. I had forgotten how multicultural Paris was – the Austrians would hate it.

We stopped at the café I always stopped at during my last solo trip to Paris and – after the usual fracas with insolent waiter - had some lunch. We visited my favourite little cemetery – St Vincent. I really like it for its cats but it was raining and of course they were nowhere to be seen.

I helped two young Australians on their way. They asked the way to the ‘stair things’ which I deduced was Sacre Coeur (well there are certainly stairs there) and I was able to point them in the right direction.

We saw Monsieur the Crepe Maker who has his restaurant next to Melissa’s apartment. I made an impression on him a couple of years ago and he often asks after me when he sees Melissa. We have promised to visit him this evening for a crepe.

I have seen Merlin on a couple of occasions and he is just gorgeous. He has (ahem) filled out a bit since I last saw him but I have assured Melissa that he will lose the extra pounds in summer when he starts leaping about on the roof again. (That is him below on Henri's shoulders).