Paris - part 2

You know your husband loves you when you go to Paris and....


1. He doesn't mind going to the Musee D'Orsay all by hisself becuase you are more interested in seeing the potential quilting designs - I mean, African, Aboriginal and Oceanic art, at the Quay Branly. No photos are allowed in there but this is a picture of the reflection of the museum's panels in the windows of a nearby apartment block.

2. When he finds he can't get into the Musee D'Orsay because there is a two hour queue and it is now two hours before closing he goes instead to Brentano's American bookshop on Avenue L'Opera near the hotel. When he spies a handwritten sign saying that they have a new patchwork room he not only follows the sign but tells you about it on your later return to the hotel. Then, he comes with you to sit while you browse for an hour or so. (They have a very good collection of English specialist books together with some Japanese and a handful of French and German. Also knitting and crochet.)

3. He agrees to translate from French the five back copies of Quiltmania magazine you find on sale there. (I shall be subscribing as I was impressed with the quality of the magazine - it is also available in English, much to his relief.)

4. When, at eleven thirty on the last night you are reading the ads in the said magazine and squeal 'I've found another one' he asks what and doesn't visibly flinch when you say "Quilt shop of course!". He allows you to rearrange your last day's plans, comes with you, leaves you to browse and goes for an espresso at the bar around the corner and arrives back at the precise time you have chosen fabric and need translation. When you say 'Fabric is expensive here' whilst clutching two fat quarters, he tells you to buy a whole meter of each because you will only regret it when you go home without it.

(La Boutique du patchwork is just a few metro stops away from the tourist center of Paris (Rue Saint-Maur, not far from the cemeterty in which Jim Morrison is buried) and is a very good shop with a wide selection of all kinds of fabric including African which of course delighted me. However, fabric is much more expensive in France than here. Turns out they also sell on line.)

5. He is prepared to accept that 'Lets go to Monmartre today' really means lets get off the Metro at Barbes Rochechouart and wander around the African area in the tipping rain and only once says, "Aren't all these wax fabrics the same ones we looked at in Brixton?". (They were plus many more, but more expensive.)

Lest you think that he had a miserable time let me just say that the little boy inside him was very excited to ride the Noddy train through Montmatre ('toot,toot'). That's him leaning out waving!