Three quarters of an hour in heavy snow to get to the museum. Three quarters of an hour waiting in heavy snow to get in. Got to the restaurant at 2 mins. past two. Waited another three quarters of an hour before ordering. Had a glass or two of rosé whilst waiting.
Finally ordered at 2.45 as they were about to start afternoon tea and lunch was off.
Had a perfectly cooked piece of bass with broad beans (My starter was French onion soup and cooked by a fool)
Followed by Île flottante. Lightest of meringue floating in crème anglaise (out of focus so I can't show you that)
Took in some of the surrounding beauty
....whilst the Italian couple next door to me (the place was crawling with Italians) talked incessantly about my clothes, my being alone, my writing in a small book (jewellery notes, not food critiques), my jewellery, what I was eating, what I was doing there solo, my platinum AMEX and finally, when I stood up to leave, the quality of my mink shawl. OH how to not just understand a bit if Italian, but to be able to give them a mouthful when I left.
On the way out I saw your doppelganger Jo Marks - except she had on the most God awful knitted beanie, so I knew I couldn't be you.
During the meal I did wonder if DM had safely negotiated the high rise of Notre Dame, but then had another glass of rosé to calm the nerves.
Decided to walk home as it had stopped snowing. A few snaps along the way
Paris is lined everywhere with these pop up shops selling Christmas stuff
Our gnome in the guest lavatory has a few brothers in Paris
Ahhhhhhh!
Presumably named for the street, but has an unfortunate link to an eating disorder when you look at it quickly
So home again, walking three arrondissements, swinging past Notre Dame to make sure that DM wasn't dangling from a gargoyle.
