We started the day with a show at the Atelier des Lumières (Workshop of Lights), a fascinating space showcasing visual displays of art in motion with music. We caught an exhibit of Gustav Klimt, along with shorter shows of Friedensreich Hundertwasser and something called POETIC_AI. The productions are precise, gorgeous, and beautifully coordinated with music that fits perfectly. Pictures and video don't come close. (But have a look anyway.) Can't recommend this place enough.

Wandered around the Cimetière du Père Lachaise, where Balzac is buried alongside Jim Morrison, Colette, and Georges Seurat. Cemeteries are always odd places to visit as a tourist. There are rows of graves of people and families I've never heard of, along with statues and sculptures and monuments and edifices of all kinds. Bought a Camus book (La Chute) from a street vendor outside. (He had no Balzac.)

Ate lunch at a lovely sidewalk cafe: avocado shrimps and margherita pizza. Then we tromped all over creation trying to find the permaculture-happy Ferme de Paris. There's no nearby metro stop, so we had to walk through a twisty neighborhood and then along a huge wall. We despaired of ever finding a way over it, even pestering some pedestrians who had never heard of this farm we sought. Then suddenly a stairway appeared and we overcame the wall. Huzzah!

The farm was lovely, as farms go. Diane was chuffed with les moutons (goats) and les chevals (horses), but we were saddened to see the line on the placard reading "… also raised for meat". Oh, France. Why must you eat the wrong animals?

We were exhausted when we reached the hotel. Diane took a nap and then we went out for Indian food. I finished a cross-stitch and we went to sleep early.

Tomorrow's the big day.

Sidewalk breakfast

Amazing display

Balzac's monument

His wife's stuck on the side

Write 100 novels, you get a book memorial

Great unsourced quote

French sunflowers