Montmartre

On the days when the childish joy of climbing has escaped you completely, then nothing is more perfect than Montmartre. The hill is neither too steep, nor is it impossible. On days when you are absolutely out of any oomph whatsoever there is the Funicular. In a rather too modern looking unmanned space ship you get whooshed up the equivalent of 200 steps for the price of a metro ticket ! And of course you can come down the same way.

But whichever way you go, when you get to the top, there’s something about being there that makes you realise your cares are still right down at the bottom. You have left them with the people who are traipsing about below, while the new you floats over Paris, at one with the clouds and sky.

Or you can sneak into Sacré Coeur with a zillion tourists, a little cynical that you could find anything in this mecca of tourism to interest you. Until you sit down and gaze up and feel that quiet that comes from being surrounded by quiet people. As if you had turned off your very own ticking.

And then you can skip down the steps again, taking photos of lovers when they ask you to, or stopping for a while on the steps to listen to buskers, wondering why on earth you are here and not busking yourself round Europe, and being quite happy with the answer.

And then, at one with the whole world you can have a great cup of coffee in a café that still looks like one, and pop into a junk shop and come out having daftly said to the owner that yes you must absolutley have the old red velvet arm chair that you have no space for. It was comfy, and it was a whim, and what better ?