Sunday 23rd January 2011

Who would have thought it? The hotel’s been marginalised. It’s not the absolute centrepiece of my mini-city-break in Paris with my architect, Bruce MacBain and Prince Dmitri Hersov, the blue-chip accountant, record and art collector. We’re just so thronging with events. I haven’t a second. We took the world-shattering once-in-a-lifetime  Monet Exhibition at the Grand Palais at 7 am yesterday morning, then straight on to L’Orangerie for the waterlilies, then lunch, then the Musee Cluny (sorry, no time for accents). Experience, thoughts, talk, style tips, Bruce MacBain and the Prince  in full flow. Then, at 7.30, round to Bruno-France Bruno’s, only recently re-met after a long gap of years, at Reggie Cresswell’s New Year’s Eve party.  When last known was living in excellently re-styled ex-council property in London although always highly peripatetic and elusive of definition. Would mysteriously offer the rarest opera tickets 40 minutes before curtain up.  Always seemed to have access to other expansive unique residences. Has been in Paris for the last five years. Much missed in London . Gave normal sounding Paris address. Open the street door with this code, he said, then text me from the courtyard. Turned out to be a superb hotel particuleur. ‘This is from the Yemen,’ he said, ‘ 4000 years old. This is by Praxateles.’ Well, not quite. Not sure about spelling. But definitely an equivalent. Small statue of male nude, in perspex box that rotates so you can view all round.

Without knowing it, we’d drilled through to the very core of Paris life at the highest level!

And more today. Must rush to live. Anything could happen.

Come back later.