Paris is a full belly with the Metro subterranean blood vessels stretching beneath its skin carrying sight-devouring tourists from attraction to attraction. Normally I’m only in Paris for a couple of days and a sense of urgency keeps me underground on the Metro. But as this visit is longer I could afford time walking. I’m surprised to find that Place de la Madelaine, Place Vendome and Place Concorde are just minutes apart on foot. Place Vendome was where Lady Di left the Ritz and then crashed and Place Concorde was where Marie-Antoinette lost her head. Paris can be rough on royalty. When the history of violence is written, Paris will be good for a couple of chapters. Templar Knights burnt at the stake, bishops tortured on the grill, St Dennis carrying his martyred head through the streets of Montmartre, The Terror, The Commune, the Gestapo knocking on your door, Lady Di’s car crash. The sun sets over Concorde.