Bon jour, another intrepid day in Paris and it is only 4.30pm. Decided on an early start this morning - it turned out to be 8pm by the time everyone got organised, and then 12 of us set off for a walking tour of Montmartre. Caught the metro there and the first thing we saw as we came out of the station was the MOULIN ROUGE - this time there was a small squeal ... as I had not expected it - visions of Toulouse Lautrec (and Nicole Kidman for those younger readers), etc etc. Took a couple of photos and thought of you Laura. We carried on up a hill and lo and behold in the near distance there was a bakery, and it was open. Even though we had had breakfast (hotel stuff) we could not resist having a pastry or two to carry on with. The pastries were a feast for the eyes and the nose. I was remarkably restrained and bought two mine pain a chocolates for €.40 each. Further up the hill was one of the last two windmills left in Montmartre. Around another corner and a bit more hill was the house where Van Gogh lived aaarrrhhh and pinch me (he was a good mate of Toulouse L also). Half way round some of the girls we had taken with us wanted to head of in a different direction and the rest of us carried on. We came to a little group of shops that sold art works and souvineers - I bought a small limoge dish to go with the cup and saucer Nana Gert gave me as a child. Around another corner was the Sacre Cour Cqthedral. Once again, like Notre Dame you could walk around the edge of the main congregation area and there were elaborate side chapels all the way around dedicated to a particular Saint or biblical personage. This church is doing some serious fundraising and so they had BIG glass jars with candles in for €10 and tea lights for €2. Another lo and behold moment because as I was wondering where to light my candle - there was a side chapel dedicated to St Vincent! I took it as a sign and lit one there - this time only singeing my finger as it got in the way of the flame from the candle I was lighting mine from. (twas but a flesh wound heh heh). I was half way round to see the other side of the church when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and out come a flock of nuns in white habits and black veils, silently. I decided to slide into a pew to see whqt happêned next. There was a moment or two of silence and then shades of Sister Act, one of the nuns got up and started conducting as they burst into song. The sound was magnificent - it was in French so couldnt pick out what it was as it didnt sound familiar. It was great to get the chance to hear it in such awesome surroundings. The church has a dome decorated in mosaic as do many features in the side chapels. I do not have any photos as you are not allowed to photograph inside the church. As I got up to leave the last stained glass window I saw was dedicated to St Gertrude - another sign. Met up with the others outside and we caught the funnicular down the hill to catch the metro again. We headed for La Fayette Stn which comes out into an enormous department store - truely overwhelming. After a pit stop we had some lunch - another interesting experience: you pick food from any of a number of food hall type places then go through to a central till place and then you find somezhere to sit. Not sure how you get paid if it is your food venue. During lunch it decided to bucket down with lightening and thunder yay. The rest of our group all wanted to do differnet things after lunch so we went our separate ways. I was determined to get to the cemetary to see Jim Morrison's grave and so off I set. Now this is where you get REALLY impressed. I cqught the metro on TWO different lines to get there, found the right place to get off and there was the cemetary right next to the station. There was still thunder and one bit of lightening and I had to chuckle at how appropriate going to see Morrison,s grave was in a storm - was this yet another sign? I took a photo of the map which was a big help and wandered my way towards the grqve. It was a bit like seeing the Mona Lisa - not a surprise, but good to feel I had been there. What was more interesting was the reactions of others who were also there. One young lad leapt over the small fence in front of the grave to leave a long stemmed rose on the side of the grave, another guy perhaps in his late twenties just stood and stared with teqrs in his eyes, then there was a tour group that moved in - certainly not much resting in peace going on there. It is not a highe or flash grave (I have photos) but there are pots of flowers on top and bunches of flowers on his grave. I saw a single cigarette on the top of the grave too. The cemetary itself is awesome, the little I saw of it - amazing tombs and not unlike Waikaraka cemetary in Onehunga except with a more European look somehow. For my next trick I got myself back to the hotel, hence me typing this. I am about to head back to see who is about and to check in. May get back later or the next one will be from ENGLAND as we leqve tomorrow via the chunnel. At least they will have a normal keyboard there! Bon soir, Lynn