I had a runny nose and a sore head, but insisted on dragging a friend across rain-soaked Paris to the Fete du Miel at Parc Georges Bressens. Which looked like this:
Only one of those stalls had anything to do with honey, as far as we could tell. I bought a jar (no more allowed: the bees had a bad summer and the honey was rationed) and we retreated to a café to warm up over hot chocolate.
Not ones to give up after just one tiny festival, we then soldiered on to Montmartre for the Fete des Vendanges de Montmartre (the Montmartre vineyard festival, although tickets to visit the actual vineyard sold out long before we got there).
Good choice. We were greeted by sunshine when we got off the metro, and there were many stalls with delicious things. I got my hands on a duck sausage roll with onion confit (yum) and Barbara opted for a raclette cheese sandwich with cured ham. Well, I say Barbara opted, but I did a good job of “helping” her finish off the gooey, salty sandwich with sharp pickles. The bread could have been a bit fresher, but the combination was lovely and we were happy once again to be in Paris, rain and sniffles be darned.
A good thing too, because the day after the runny nose turned into fully fledged, full body misery and my poor friend lost her tour guide a day and a half into her visit. Maybe next time I should cover up when I go in search of rationed honey.