No not a reference to stealing hotel linens nor worse habits. It's a footballing analogy and due to another successful Louvre body swerve (mixed metaphors here, that would be the egg shaped ball game). Instead of the "place which must not be visited" we followed a sociable lunch with a long wait outside the "Paris seen by Hollywood " exhibition at the Hotel de Ville and a short time inside. More tiny clothes, this time belonging to Audrey Hepburn, but also some surprisingly large boots worn by Gene Kelly. He must have been fleet footed to avoid tripping over them! Interesting early film of Paris crowds, reminiscent of Caillebotte's "Rue de Paris - temps de pluie" at Musee d'Orsay.
After Friday night with friends, Saturday night dinner was just me and Mr Starke. We ate at Pramil, rue Vertbois 3e. Highly recommended. Again small and cosy but more polished than Thursday's choice. Pink lambs liver, delicious and no ill effects, take that Westminster Council.
Lazy Sunday morning, a last decadent breakfast and then a visit to the Musee de la Vie Romantique followed by our now traditional Sunday in Paris activity, a visit to a cemetery. Last visit it was the frozen Pere Lachaise where we paid our respects to Oscar Wilde.
This time it was Cimetiere de Montmartre, patrolled by cats, and the (almost) last resting place of Zola, moved to the Pantheon in the '70's, and "la Goulue", Louise Weber, former Can-Can dancer at the Moulin Rouge.
Bypassing the place of her triumph, besieged by coach loads at Sunday lunchtime, we preferred to emulate her nickname with a long lunch at the beautiful brasserie Mollard opposite Gare St Lazare. It's an historic monument, officially because of the gorgeous art nouveau decor, but should be for its platters of seafood, lunches en famille and traditional hierarchies of busy waiters - only the maitre d' finishing off the crepes Suzette and lobster.
Then back down to earth with a bump. The Gard du Nord and the RER to CDG. And over that journey I'll draw a veil.