Post by georgeleitch on Apr 15, 2012 12:23:09 GMT -5
Hi again,
Had to have a wee hiatus as my Mac died and is now a very expensive door stopper. The Thursday being our 6Th day in Paris we arose fairly early and I did the usual jaunt across for our breakfast. We didn't do too much as my feet were killing me and I thought a wee rest in the bar across the road would do them the world of good. I did however, want to go to Bon Marche and so, eventually we left the bar and Metroed our way to the Left Bank. As usual we came out on the wrong side of the Metro station and plodded our way to the store.
The Grande Epicerie is something special and I could have gone berserk in there but Stella who hates grocery shopping at the best of times was getting bored after I went round the various chocolate shelves a couple of times so we decided to have a wee peek upstairs. There seems to be a "thing" about Department stores that always induces me to turn a wrong corner and end up in Ladies Lingerie.I don't know why but it seems to always happen to me and it gets very embarrassing.Anyway, we fought our way clear and for some odd reason ended up at a wool counter. Now, before we left, our daughter had asked us to pick up some wool when we were in Scotland. We were unable to find Rowan in Hemel Hempstead (name of wool ,not town) we tried Scotland and Maidstone in Kent but were unable to find this blasted wool. However in Bon Marche, we were able to buy two balls of her second choice. The first choice was down to one ball so she was lucky that we found her second choice. its ironic that in Paisley where J&P Coats were founded we were unable to find anything yet in Paris we got it without any bother. Oh well, such is life.
Back down to the food place via Louis Vuitton and various other high rent places where I got a jar of crunchy Speculoos and various other eatables. I even found frozen profiteroles in chocolate sauce in the yoghurt section and they were delicious. We bought some Bordier butter but couldn't see what all the raving is about. Tastes like ordinary salted butter to me but then again my taste buds have been ruined by years of eating pies and having chips with everything.And it looks rancid. Oily and yucky looking.
After our exertions off we trotted to Angelina's where ,I have been reliably informed, lies the best hot chocolate on the planet.On this subject I must agree as it was delicious as were the macarons but life is not all fun and games so, off we went again , this time to Jean Paul Hevin where we browsed and bought some chocolate fish. We scoffed them on the way home and I no longer believe the guff that Parisians don't eat outside they eat burgers, pizza pita bread. All sorts of stuff in fact.
At home after a visit to our Trateur where Stella had salmon and spinach in pastry and I had just a thick slice of Rabbit terrine for supper. Back to our perches at the bar across the road for people watching. Right next door to the apartment was a wooden door with a peephole and a brass plaque that said "Club Liberty for couples and single women only". Odd, thought I but on sober reflection came to the conclusion that it was a club that catered to couples with a lonely female friend who just wanted to go out and not get hit on by men.I did get quite a shock when I googled it when we got back. I would advise ladies who read this NOT to google it as they may well get a shock as to what actually was going on in the basement next door.
I shall now go and have a piece of toast smothered in Speculoos so, eat your hearts out guys.
Had to have a wee hiatus as my Mac died and is now a very expensive door stopper. The Thursday being our 6Th day in Paris we arose fairly early and I did the usual jaunt across for our breakfast. We didn't do too much as my feet were killing me and I thought a wee rest in the bar across the road would do them the world of good. I did however, want to go to Bon Marche and so, eventually we left the bar and Metroed our way to the Left Bank. As usual we came out on the wrong side of the Metro station and plodded our way to the store.
The Grande Epicerie is something special and I could have gone berserk in there but Stella who hates grocery shopping at the best of times was getting bored after I went round the various chocolate shelves a couple of times so we decided to have a wee peek upstairs. There seems to be a "thing" about Department stores that always induces me to turn a wrong corner and end up in Ladies Lingerie.I don't know why but it seems to always happen to me and it gets very embarrassing.Anyway, we fought our way clear and for some odd reason ended up at a wool counter. Now, before we left, our daughter had asked us to pick up some wool when we were in Scotland. We were unable to find Rowan in Hemel Hempstead (name of wool ,not town) we tried Scotland and Maidstone in Kent but were unable to find this blasted wool. However in Bon Marche, we were able to buy two balls of her second choice. The first choice was down to one ball so she was lucky that we found her second choice. its ironic that in Paisley where J&P Coats were founded we were unable to find anything yet in Paris we got it without any bother. Oh well, such is life.
Back down to the food place via Louis Vuitton and various other high rent places where I got a jar of crunchy Speculoos and various other eatables. I even found frozen profiteroles in chocolate sauce in the yoghurt section and they were delicious. We bought some Bordier butter but couldn't see what all the raving is about. Tastes like ordinary salted butter to me but then again my taste buds have been ruined by years of eating pies and having chips with everything.And it looks rancid. Oily and yucky looking.
After our exertions off we trotted to Angelina's where ,I have been reliably informed, lies the best hot chocolate on the planet.On this subject I must agree as it was delicious as were the macarons but life is not all fun and games so, off we went again , this time to Jean Paul Hevin where we browsed and bought some chocolate fish. We scoffed them on the way home and I no longer believe the guff that Parisians don't eat outside they eat burgers, pizza pita bread. All sorts of stuff in fact.
At home after a visit to our Trateur where Stella had salmon and spinach in pastry and I had just a thick slice of Rabbit terrine for supper. Back to our perches at the bar across the road for people watching. Right next door to the apartment was a wooden door with a peephole and a brass plaque that said "Club Liberty for couples and single women only". Odd, thought I but on sober reflection came to the conclusion that it was a club that catered to couples with a lonely female friend who just wanted to go out and not get hit on by men.I did get quite a shock when I googled it when we got back. I would advise ladies who read this NOT to google it as they may well get a shock as to what actually was going on in the basement next door.
I shall now go and have a piece of toast smothered in Speculoos so, eat your hearts out guys.
Let the riot begin! LOL - 
hahahha