The stalls of the Marche Atwater were completely blocked out by the mounds of pumpkins as far as we could see. People of all nationalities struggling out lugging them home to be carved and sat on their doorstep. The market reminded me of the markets of the South West in France. Our bags filled with the most wonderful Roquefort, brie, baguettes and tomatoes. Our picnic at Mimi’s was fantastic. Yes the day was all about food – Kim arrived and we wandered up Rue Wellington to the Les Isle en Ville. It was like visiting raucous family for dinner. The live music was provided by the waiter, the chef, the woman on the desk, the customers and occasionally the country singer. We had boot scooting locals, lots of noise and stunning soup, cod cakes and small pies – it was totally amazing – the seafood from the small island of Madeleine sent by the family. We sat crowded in to a small unassuming café and stuffed our mouths with fantastic food, singing along to John Denver in French – well our French was pretty crap but it was so damn noisy no-one noticed. We couldn’t hear ourselves, but felt like we were locals for a night – our singing relatives had as good a time as us and the bill was miniscule.
Sleeping under the stars 
Sounds like my sort of day out, what fun….