These boots were made for walkin'
And that's just what they'll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.
("you" being the streets of Paris)

Nibblet 9/16: After a shot of caffeine (cafe con creme) and bite of pan con chocolate (where a thin layer of chocolate was painted on top of the pastry; LAME), we headed up to Montmartre (pronounced "Moan-mart" and no wonder after we hiked up the eleventy-hundred steps leading to Basilica de Sacre Coeur) the highest point in Paris. We could have taken the funicular up the steep hill, but where's the pain in that? Here's a pix I took of the Basilica when we reached the top and I cleverly covered up the extreme need to catch my breath and rest my aching legs by insisting on stopping, focusing the camera, fiddling around with the buttons, and taking a picture.





We walked from a house of God to a house of sin: the infamous ("infamous is when you're more than famous!") Moulin Rouge. We walked from there to the house of the dead: the rather serene cemetery of Montmartre ("A dreaded sunny day, So I meet you at the cemetery gates"). Upon our return to the Left Bank, we walked from Saint Germain to the Pantheon in the Latin Quarter and then to a house of God again: the Paris Mosque and its lovely courtyard. We walked to the Jardin des Plantes for some more ka-BLOOM action, walked along the Seine (number of dead cats along the way: one. number of injured old men in a bike accident: one. number of stunning cathedrals: one.), and finally, to collect some mezze to eat at home, walked to Au Bon Marche (the city's largest food market; at 2,700 square meters, you can imagine the time it took to find the hummus). Whole lotta walkin' that day. My poor Abibbas will never be the same.

In other news, how is it that finally getting poor, busticated Cressie washed (Ultimate Deluxe Wash, that is) makes me think that she goes faster now?