Paris is still wonderful. I’ve been ingesting all it has to offer and think maybe I’ve overdone it. My system isn’t used to all this rich food and I developed what Julia Child called “Paris belly.” Too much, butter, pate and wine. And bread! Croissants, pain au chocolat, baguette… no wonder I feel ill around the gills. Last night at dinner I sat next to three men who are in town for an international bread conference. One Spanish, one Italian, one German. They asked me to join them for desert and I did. No one spoke much of the other’s language… there was lots of hand-talking and face-making.

I’m at the halfway point of my trip and there’s still so much I want to see. I’m trying to be calm and not panic, let Paris present itself to me. Yesterday during a wander/shopping expedition I happened upon one of the things I’d earmarked in my travel guide, a medieval house. Before I leave I want to do one fancy, ricidulous dinner but need to get my tummy functional. Last night I got eight hours of sleep. Here’s to that becoming a trend.