I went to a Brazilian bar last night which was great for two reasons:

I was able to have proper conversation with the owner about football – somethin I have been unable to do in a land which seems to be largely populated by egg-chasers (granted the brazilian national team and Bristol City don’t really sit too well side by side)

Also, I had a rather nice meal -feijoada – which I wasn’t informed of the time consists of Pigs ears, tails and feet (it was very nice all the same, but I was several pints down by this point…

Unfortunately this does mean I’m feeling a little light headed today. so a walk to find some hotels for Ben’s 30th was a welcome way to wake up. (err, cue getting lost again, but it was at least in a different part of the city.)

It also gave me a chance to walk down the Canal St Martin. that’ll be the canal that Amelie skips stones over in the film, and a rather expensive, and attractive part of town to own a flat.

Or at least it was. because of Paris’s growing problem with the homeless ( france apparently has 1/3rd of all the homeless in Europe), the banks of the canal look more like a glastonbury field than a film set as the ‘Enfants of Don Quichotte’ charity have thrown up hundreds of free tents for homeless people all along it. and it’s fast becoming the talking point of the French elections (taking place in June I think)

You can’t fault the intention, but I did feel a bit sorry for people whose doorways opened right into the campsite…