Now that the snow has melted - just barely - and we won’t fall on our butts getting down the hill or back up, let me take you grocery shopping. Because there’s bloody little "fresh" left in the house to eat after days of hibernation.
Now the final push back across the square, and a walking chat with a young man carrying his rented municipal Vélib bike up the ten steps with considerable effort.
"It’s easier riding downhill," I quip. "Not many people bring them back uphill." He agrees, saying it’s the only way he can find one when he needs it, and adds that he’s biked all around Paris already this morning.
"That must have kept you warm," I say.
"Not all the time," he smiles. "It’s pretty cold in places, and there’s a chilly breeze down by the Seine."
We part ways at my corner, him going even farther up the Butte and me passing school children on an outing, two by two.
And that is how you do the shopping every few days when you’re in Montmartre.