More repetition

That's what comes of not reading through what one has already written!
Sorry about the doubling of the pix...
Now we move on to Paris ... When still in Portugal I had booked the train return from Amsterdam to Paris Gare du Nord.
David would have liked to come too, but is saddled with the cleaning of our boat's mast ... happily Andrea is assisting, otherwise it would be a long and exhausting job. As it is, they have spent many weeks cleaning it. Now almost finished. The Atlantic outside Porto where our boat is moored is wild and windy. Glad I'm sitting in the train crossing the French countryside.
We set off at dawn, the skies lowering: snow is forecast. Here is a view out the window (still in the Netherlands):

Once arrived in Paris, there was the sun. Oh splendid city with winding streets and little hills and the white tower of Sacre-Coeur. We drove out to Nanterre where Samir, our Algerian friend, lives.
Next language to learn is Berber. My French manages very well. I had an excellent teacher at my secondary school. Miss Bishop. I was very lucky to be so well taught.
Souaad (also from Algeria) presented me with a magnificent Berber dress. Hand made. Here it is:

And here are Samir and Souaad and one of their wonderful meals ... later on came a home-made couscous...

So we ate, we talked, we went for walks, we watched the TV (an interview with Jean d'Ormesson the writer, member of the Academie Francaise, who has just died) we met other members of the Berber family (I listened to them speaking Berber... maybe I'll learn it later ...) and I slept in utter quiet because in Samir's new flat in Nanterre there is clever double glazing.
Days of wonderful relaxation, and being splendidly looked after.
And for all my literary friends, here are the madeleines:

Oh the utterly mouth-watering delicacies of the French patisserie...

We were warned from various sources of huge gales and snow storms reaching the French Atlantic coast, so I was prepared for a long journey back ... but all went smoothly and of course I found some people to chat with on the train, and watched the snow flurries outside.
Everything was delayed but finally I reached home and it felt pleasantly warm. The next day the central-heating thermostat died ... but that is another story.
Homeward bound:

How swiftly we move and how little time we spend in quiet contemplation... Train journeys are great!