We step out of our apartment and tip toe down the narrow, lopsided, spiral staircase. The steps are uneven with wear and some have crumbled away over time. I don’t mind the steep descent so much this morning, but it wasn’t much fun lugging our suitcases up these yesterday. (Or at least, it wasn’t much fun for my husband, while the house-keeper chatted to me about the local restaurants and showed me around the apartment!)

It is Saturday and the Marché Baudoyer has sprung up across the road. Wandering through the marquee-ed lanes, it is exactly like what we’ve read about Paris’ open air markets; everything we’ve expected – and more.
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