Ordering from the immense menu at Bermuda Onion in the light of the red sun

During this trip, I've been keeping very late hours compared to my practice back home. In San Francisco, it's relatively rare that I'm still awake at 11.00 p.m., whereas most nights during this trip we've not even finished dinner by then! The thing that makes the difference here is that I've been able to sleep late most mornings, something that I'm seemingly unable to do back home. This has meant that I've been able to abandon my usual habit of worrying about going to bed too late (for fear that I'd wake up early and feel wretched during the day), and instead, stay up as late as I want, sleep late, and feel great the next day. Last night, after dinner at a fancy restaurant named Bermuda Onion, we stayed out dancing at The Queen until after 3.00, and I slept until around 11.00 this morning. Maybe I'll discover that I can do this back home too; although I don't intend to start going out dancing regularly until 3.00 in the morning!

The sun set as seen from the restaurant terrace

Today, it was even warmer, if possible, densely humid, and without a breeze. We decided to do something air-conditioned, and since I wanted to see the modern art museum in the Pompidou anyway, it seemed the perfect thing to do. Unfortunately, as I discovered half way through our visit, we didn't leave enough time for it, since, by 3.45, we'd only explored about two thirds of one of the three floors of exhibits. I loved what I did see, and it's one of those museums, like the Tate Modern or the Getty Center, where the building itself is half the fun.

Four flights up the escalator at the Centre Georges Pompidou

We really only got to see about two thirds of the contemporary floor. There was some great stuff, along with the usual kind of installation you see in contemporary art musuems where you don't get the point. The stuff I liked included an exhibition about the work of the architect Adalberto Libera, some of the better big pieces of architectural fantasy, and some works that had a pleasing tactile sense (not that you were allowed to touch anything of course, but at least you were allowed to take photographs). Whenever I explore good contemporary museum galleries like this, I start to fantasize about making my own art objects.

Painting by Picabia in the collection.

We barely had time to see anything of the fifth or sixth floors, and I was regretting our timing when I saw what I'd be missing - several great Chagalls, for instance. The actual space has a few beautiful spots (for such a seemingly ugly building). Several wonderful terraces with shallow sculpture pools, and views over the city towards the Eiffel Tower or Sacre Couer.

One of the gorgeous terraces in the Centre. You can see Sacre Couer on the horizon.

One of the reasons we had to cut short our time in the Pompidou is that I wanted to do a little gift shopping, and I needed to buy some socks, of all things, since I've run out of my (newly mint green) white socks. We did most of our shopping in the fabulous Printemps Design store in the Pompidou, and then walked around the Marais, taking a snack break, and looking in the gay boys' clothing stores.

A quick snack break in the Marais

We started our evening with drinks with an entertainment journalist named Guy who I first encountered through my website. He seemed like a nice, cheerful guy, but we didn't really have much time to spare since (to finish up this mad three-day dash through Paris) we wanted to catch the sunset view from the top of Montmartre, in front of Sacre Couer. We parked just below the top of the hill, and walked slowly through the quiet, charming residential streets that preceed the mob scene at the top.

In Montmartre - first sight of Sacre Couer as we walk up the hill.

The cathedral itself is stunningly beautiful from the outside - a sculptural dream. Inside, the appeal is more for the strength of the architecture rather than the ornamentation. The other appeal of coming here is for the fantastic view of Paris spread out beneath you, under the moon and a dense, warm thick sky drawing into dusk after the smouldering departure of the sun.

Sacre Couer

The three of us with the view from Sacre Couer behind us

Finally, there was time for one last, late Paris dinner, at a place named 912 in the Bastille. As we searched the side-streets for a parking spot, I was feeling tired, hot, hungry and in need of a pee, so I felt rather cross. But the food was great, the wine soothing, and my good humor returned. I've immensely enjoyed this stay in Paris, as has Brett I think, and I owe a large debt to Jean-Marc, who I've grown fond of during our short stay.

Tomorrow, back to London for two nights, then home. And back to the office on Friday, oh Lord!