Journey from Prague to Paris. Part 7. We leave for Montmartre

 Not far  from the island of Cité, is the famous Latin Quarter, the Mecca of  French youth and students, comfortably surrounding the Sorbonne. There are a lot of people here. Narrow,  noisy streets, cafes here and there, scurrying back and forth tourists -  in general, a place from the category of popular. We stayed here for a bit - hurried to the Metro, go to the Montmartre area. However,  they could not pass by the authentic French pastry shop Paul, and the  ice cream shop (the latter is generally a tradition, we love this  business))) 

 At me pistachio, at the wife - hotly adored amarena, she the cherry. Gran plesir, I'll tell you)

Well, then we went to the Montmartre hill. In  my last visit to Paris, I was more remembered by Sacre Coeur - the  Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, it is also the White Cathedral, a  building on top of a hill with a fantastic panorama to Paris. But he remembered not so much this, as the color of the Cathedral - I have never seen anything so blanc, white in my life. In far 2007 it really was incredible, unthinkably white - I did not even have suitable comparisons.

Alas, time does not spare sandstone. Never. Sacre Coeur, of course, will bleach, in five years, but now it is an ordinary, dusty building. Beautiful,  of course, and the location of something else, but that feeling of a  miracle that was ten years ago, no longer exists. It's a pity. 

 Down below, next to the carousel, African Americans are on duty. I  wanted to be politically incorrect, and write "Negroes", although I  respect representatives of all times - it's just that these guys want to  be called precisely not because of the color of their skin, but because  of their behavior. Natural  pigs grab hold of their hands, put their Eiffel towers made in china  under their noses, insistently say something on the eerie mixture of  languages

- darkness. That ten years ago they were on duty here, now. Bread place, see.

Having  passed the persistent traders, we descended on the street full of shops  with cheap souvenirs, went to the right - towards Moulin Rouge. 

 Price list at the entrance - I'll tell you)) A few hundred euros per person, in my opinion). Well, in our plans a visit to the cabaret was not included - we so, look at the picture. With a little bit of history.

And next to, by the way, a beautiful, large supermarket. Zataris products for the evening, and went by subway to the hotel. The  evening was not planning to be a languid one - we were waiting for the  Trocadero, the evening tower, and the threshold of my thirtieth  birthday.