I turned left into the Rue de Rodier fingering the change in my pocket, last nights Bordeaux flowed through my veins and kicked me in the head. 50 centimes, half a Euro left, I hadn’t eaten since, well a long time. I joined the queue forming outside the Boulangerie.

Half a Euro. I’d done my first days work in a month two weeks ago tending bar in Paris. The head waiter had shouted like crazy, ‘I’m just going to serve those two gentlemen over there,’ I expressed, ‘Say it in English’ he retorted, in English, ‘those two gentleman’ I repeated, ‘enough of your gangster slang’ he screamed, stuffed 50€ in my pocket and shoved me out the door.