Shopping, Shopping, Shopping. My turn. Roger’s turn. Michelle’s turn. Shopping, Shopping, Shopping.

Saturday we didn’t get much further than BHV. It was Michelle’s day. I didn’t think I could ever get sick of a department store, but it happened. We were looking for screws, nuts & bolts, peppered with trips to the women’s work clothes section, fine glasses and kitchenware.

Yesterday after another marathon shop around Madeline area taking advantage of the ‘ouverture exceptionelles’ we wandered up to Montmartre to fulfil a little quota of so called ‘Paris discovery’ while taking advantage of the Parisian watering holes along the way. A cafe here, a glass of wine there, the later it got the more likely it was a pichet here, and a pichet there, but we managed to get home safely, on foot, sober enough to make a caramelised onion tart. Yum.