Ile Saint-Louis

I always fall in love with sunglasses. We met Saturday. it was a coup de foudre/instant love all over again.

Find me these tortoiseshell sunglasses from H & M ($8.00) PBers and the 5" x 7" watercolor above is yours.

We went on a Magical Mystery tour of the Ile Saint Louis where her main character, stylish Aimée lives and grew up.

We hit many high points like sculptress Camille Claudel's house on quai d'Anjou.

Someone was fool enough to open a door and we waltzed in with all the aplomb as if living there.

Another private courtyard at No.39 holds the theatre de Saint Louis. Naturally it plays a roll in private investigator Aimée escaping a villain during a dress rehearsal.

P.I. has a penchant for extravagant designer shoes usually bought on sale at a Vide Grenier or the soldé. 

She also has a penchant for falling down on cobblestones/pavé and breaking her expensive heels. This is a bad habit I've picked up, though I'm wearing sensible flat Arcopedicos. Go figure. Some people are home breakers. Aimée 

 is a heel breaker.

We catch Aimée's concierge out walking 'Miles Davis' round the block while Aimée escapes murderers and break heels.

17th century historic church Saint-Louis-en-l'lle where Aimée was baptized. We took a good look at the baptismal fount. A definite don't-miss on the island at 19 bis, rue Saint-Louis-en-l'lle.

I have complained repeatedly to that Aimée simply does not eat enough pastry on the ile Saint-Louis or off, but I'm barking up the wrong tree. PLEASE give us some pastry in the next mystery. Do you agree or not PBers? Any particular pastry you would like to see Aimée eating btw? Here's your chance to get in a word with the author.

Where Aimée learned her letters in grade school.

Quite a few dunks in the nearby Seine turn up.

This is where a body was found near Pont Sully.

Aimée herself ends up in very hot water in that mystery but no spoilers allowed.

The public baths on rue de Deux Ponts where some of Paris' underbelly come for a scrubdown in the Leduc series.

Where Hemingway bought his fishing tackle on rue Sully.

We visit one of the most prestigious, private hotel particuliars on the island, Hôtel de Lauzun

Someone opens a gate and we’re 'in like Flint', The guard queries if we are supposed to be there. Doodly-doodly-do

Since Hotel de Lauzun is in the book I must see it right? We head upstairs and then down and out the gate. The guard would like to pick a fight with us, rightly sensing we don't belong there but Cara wafts on with me looking back and crossing my fingers we don't get arrested.

We waft over to chez moi where there is no interference or guards. They're awfully fun. We're both very lucky to have Cara take us round the Ile Saint-Louis on a private tour non?