You can never go back...

Recently trudging the streets of Paris again, looking for a bistro where a vegetarian might get something to pass as food for anight, we found oursleves back near a restaurant we went to the same time last year, Sabraj.

I should have realised my mistake, when we found the place. Remembering a restaurant for its decor and not its food and service should have told me something. Maybe times change or maybe I was a fool for not realising that copper and tin plate do not a restaurant make. That requires food cooked well, attentive service and atmosphere.

You could say they had some sort of atmosphere, four or five men stood mysteriously at the back while one waiter tried to do everything himself. The owner helped a little but seemed more keen to talk to the shady guys. While taking our order after a half hour wait, he yawned and looked elsewhere.

Food eventually arrived and I remembered why I hadn't remembered it before. Unfortunately the only sight of the wine we ordered was on the bill, but nobody seemed to be interested in taking any money or discussing it, so we left less money than the bill and walked out, never to return.