Shopping, Sunday, 20 December

It is now the Sunday before Christmas and it is snowing again. Despite this, as all the shops were open (and warm) we decided to go to Bon Marche which is the very elegant department store on the Left Bank and about which we have already written. It was quite elegant the last time we were there but even more elegant, if possible, this time. As you wander around, there is lovely classical music being played and there are places to sit. We sat and watched "the beautiful people" doing their Christmas shopping. Well, if not beautiful, at least well off as this is not a bargain hunter's paradise. Virginia kept pointing out lovely things that she would like to have for Christmas; an Hermes scarf, a Luis Vuiton bag, etc. I suggested possibly a new husband who could afford such gifts.



It was particularly good fun when we contrasted it with the hustle and bustle of that "cheap" paradise, Tati about which we have also written. No hawker or spruikers out side Bon Marche trying to sell you knock-off Chanel perfume; only security guards. Of course, no trip to Le Bon Marche would be complete without a visit to La Grande Epicerie, the food hall. And while that is quite good, we still find that they do not have Vegemite. For that, it is back to W. H. Smith, the booksellers in the rue de Rivoli.

One thing that is of interest here is that there appears to be no pattern of night stocking. Carts of goods to be placed on shelves are constantly pushing through the crowds which, at Christmas time, is not merely frustrating but a hazard to one's ankles and knees. But that, like the pattern at the checkouts where customers always pack their bags of purchases before digging through their purses to produce their credit cards which seem to take ages to process, is the French way. And while it seems, in the latter instance, to require long waits, when we actually timed it, it seemed to be only a few minutes longer than we would have stood in line in Australia.

As we had been invited to a "gourter" or "tasting" which is the equivalent of afternoon tea, we returned to the flat just after mid-day. M. Vaucanson is the "Chef du Syndicat" or the chairman of the Strata Title Management. He is a lovely gentleman of the old school who speaks no English but has been very kind to us over a number of years now. He is a former actor and as a result has beautiful diction which makes it a pleasure to speak with him. He had invited us and another couple and this was a test of our language skills. Virginia passed with flying colours while I sank never to be heard from again! We had been invited by M. Vaucanson in the past and knew this would be a fairly formal occasion which, indeed it was, but very enjoyable.