In the evening we climbed the Butte again, because the light was so great.



An ugly street in Montmatre, not ugly at all compared to most of my city...



And on one street we caught this famous author, getting into her limousine. She probably lives in Montmatre, too. Selfish bitch.



I waited for the blue hour, but in vain, it never came. Paris' blue hour is dusky pink.



Elia on the stairway.



And Her again, shining bright.



I had to half climb a fence to take that picture, while Elia waited, looking awfully cute.



So I stepped down from it...



and took a picture of her taking a picture of Her. XD



This shows quite adequately how excited I was.



Look at those colours! And the way the city peeks through every gap between houses!



I'm really sparing you most of the pictures. She was just so very beautiful...



Yes, we ate crépes. With sugar. Did you know those perverted french offer you crépes with butter and sugar? Goodness...



Sacre Coeur.





This was right beside Au Lapin Agile which I couldn't get a decent pic of.





And back to our hotel room again. Small, but oh so cute!







This is the Boulangerie where we bought our breakfasts. Nomnom.





And this is the Latin Quarter, where we went the next day. Paris brought out the sun and showed itself from its best side, the flirt.



With some difficulties we found the ridiculously pretty used book shop Shakespeare & Company.





It's stuffed with books and nicknacks and wisdom.





The quote hanging there is from Anais Nins diaries, saying: "And there by the Seine was the bookshop... an Utrillo house, not too steady on its foundations, small windows, wrinkled shutters. And there was George Whitman, undernourished, bearded, a saint among his books, lending them, housing penniless friends upstairs, not eager to sell, in the back of the store, in a small overcrowded room, with a desk, a small stove. All those who come for books remain to talk, while George tries to write letters, to open his mail, order books. A tiny, unbelievable staircase, circular, leads to his bedroom, or the communal bedroom, where he expected Henry Miller and other visitors to stay."







This up there, where the ladder leads, is one of the places where any visitor can sleep, if he or she works for the shop for a bit.





Looking back from the window to the stairs with the sleeping place. Behind the door on the right is a very tiny kitchen. On the left is a small window to a courtyard.



And from the stairs right through is another room with a sleeping place. And another parisian cat.



Those were everywhere, btw.



tbc...