Day 297. New year, day one. (24/10/13)

Espresso at the foot of Sacre Couer

Street traders no longer attempting to sell cheap Eiffel Tower replicas now winding bizarre ribbons round the fingers of anybody foolish enough to leave their limbs stationary for any period of time, blocking Matty's way to the steps - small enough to boss round apparently.

Tom and Matt further destroying their fear of heights by sprinting ahead to the tip of the basilica.

Drinks watching the artists in Montmartre.

A stroll through the Pigalle with Tom to satisfy his curiosity as to what constitutes seediness in day time (Matty in McDonalds with J soaking up a safer culture)

Oscar Wilde's grave, a sphinx in flight.

Jim Morrison's, small, tatty, a bit cheap, fenced off so the public can no longer touch it.

A guided tour in front of Chopin's grave, the guide singing pieces from his work. Tom and I stayed for the whole talk. All of it en Francais, didn't understand a word, thoroughly magical.

2.50 Euros for le plan du Cimetiere and it didn't include a note of the grave of Gericault, painter of The Raft of the Medusa (the cover art to The Pogues 'Rum, Sodomy and the Lash, although I'm sure that he hadn't intended it as such)

Metros and Metros and Metros, buskers on violins and Chinese stringed instruments that sounded like wailing human voice.

An American trio playing ragtime on guitar, bull fiddle and percussion on Pont Marie, dressed for 1932.

Notre Dame, gothic and towering. The towers closed. Again. 4 times I've been to Paris now and the only occasion that I've managed the climb to the top of the Cathedrale is 1975.

October 24th 2013, watching Jimmy Stewart and Charlton Heston in 'The Greatest Show On Earth' in a French hotel room as we prepare for the evening and plan our final day in Paris.

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