1686

We had dinner last night at a restaurant down the road from our apartment that first opened in 1686, “le rendez-vous des Arts and lettres”. Not sure we fitted the bill completely but it was a good night. Sharon was certain, she could feel it in her ancestral bones, that Boswell had dined here, maybe at our table. I had beef cheeks, Tom, as recommended by you and Sharon, the trout washed down with a bottle of Alsace reisling. That was after a heavy day on “le Tour de Paris”. These bikes are great but because there is so much to see the k’s just go by. A stop here and there in a park for a rest and a feed, and a bit of sight seeing, and we are off again. It sure beats walking! We ended up over the river in an area called Passy, not too far from the Eiffel Tower and decided to stop at a corner cafe for a coffee and beer. Shortly after the drinks arrived, a road machine came down a nearby street and began tearing up the bitumen spewing oily fumes all around. Not long after it worked its way down the end of the road away from us so the noise was bearable, much like the trains at home, two men pulled up two metres from us and pulled a man hole cover away, slipped on rubber gloves and descended into the dark. The gloves were so they didn’t have to touch the stuff that was making the smell coming up from the bowels of the city. Ohh! La La!