I've always liked the Quartier Saint-Michel, with its huge square, its eclectic market, its thousand and one kebaberies and the wild mix of races, languages and clothes. Yesterday we went to call on someone to discuss future ministry. They live in a beautiful flat overlooking the Place Saint-Michel.
On the way home we went down the main side-street to Cours Victor Hugo and admired the North African cakes and pastries, all gleaming and dripping with honey, then the crazy cafés
"and look at that boulangerie - you won't find a finer"
It was true. It was a mighty fine boulangerie. The baker, with a white napkin tied round his head, was baking at the back of the shop. As we watched a chap came out thrilled to the point of ecstasy with his crusty rustic baguette, tucked it under his arm, got on his bike and rode off.
(Sorry, no beret or onions)
We walked on.
"Bonjour m'sieur. Ca va bien? J'ai du bon s**t si vous voulez."
The chap muttered, then gave me a beaming smile. It was the first time someone has offered me drugs in Bordeaux and I was more than a little taken aback. I thought I looked more fuddy-duddy than that! Must be doing something right...
I didn't buy any.