To Bastille to buy a scooter. Une trotinette. To St. Paul. Crossing Seine, Ile St. Louis, Seine, lunch on quai with view of Notre Dame. A very gentille proprietress of a new music-box shop told us how to get to Shakespeare and Co. and offered her loo. For free. Shakespeare

A day of descents. And the left. Sarkozy wants, says the Communist Party, in language we have not heard in NZ for many years, unionist language – he is deaf to the cries, a nauseating move, perpetuating and exacerbating sexual inequality, parents taking jobs from their children – to raise the retirement

The strain of carrying provisions home in my backpack has done something to my spine. The one night I am relieved of having to write late into the night – a self-imposed pressure – pleasure – I awaken at 2:00 am and thereafter hourly with twinging muscle something, left side, below ribs

Today our petite ville, little city, the 18eme arrondissement, Montmartre. Checked out the Marché Ordener, not because J. hasn’t been following a private progress around supermarkets in foreign parts and we have nothing to eat, but to see what a city market offers in Paris. The produce was good,

There seems to be barely time to reflect on what we are seeing or what I am saying and how I am presenting it in these posts. The impetus behind which was not merely to record our travels but also to open up in the writing a formal dimension wherein

Following our strategic progress arrondissement by arrondissement, we tackled the Beaubourg. Thought to. But setting forth from one of the seedier stations, harrassed by cigarette sellers and ticket pushers – a wall of them on the steps up to the station – Barbès-Rochechouart, we were limited in our choice of lines to