Boulangerie Beatrix, Paris

After a quick stop-over in Kuala Lumpur, home of the super-highway and mega-mall, we landed in Paris, surprised and delighted by the mild spring weather. We decided to combine our love of walking with following up some internet recommendations for good coffee shops. The first was not too far from Notre Dame and sold lots of varieties from all over the world. While the barista/owner was very helpful and could make pretty designs on top of the foam (not something that usually inspires us), I noticed he had a habit of licking the spoon that he’d used to make the designs and then re-using it on the next cup. Nice. I figured we’d survived two flights with various edible food-like substances, so I kept it to myself, and we ordered a Machiato each. It was ok, but the French heat-treated milk will always taste odd to us. A French woman once explained to us that “Milk is for babies (bebes)” and therefore only good for making cheese, yoghurt and other yummy things.
We did a longish circuit around Notre Dame, and then stopped for lunch at our favourite Boulangerie, Beatrix, around the corner from the Pompidou Centre. Last time we came to Paris, we caught the Metro into town, and then wondered what to do with our luggage. More seasoned travellers would have taken them to their hotel, or found a locker or something more sensible, but we decided to ask the bakery owner what she thought we should do with two small suitcases. In contrast to what we’d heard about the French, she offered to mind them for us. We thanked her by eating a large morning tea. And then came back for lunch every day. The afternoon coffee shop was fine but while the french do baguettes and tarts very well, the coffee is a bit disappointing.