Yes, yes, fine, we will be going to bars and tall religious buildings and nice restaurants and all that jazz, but this is the thing I’m really here for - a bakery. And not even your, ahem, Amsterdam kind of bakery. Just an actual bakery for me, please. One of the joys of going to visit friends who now live in other exciting places is watching them shake out of their habits, go to the neighbourhoods they don’t tend to go to because why would you without a good reason? Hazel likes Grammes, but it’s out of her way, and I’m delighted to be the jolt that kicks us over that way. She and I reminisce about a far breton we once had (Verjus in Paris, January 2019, seared into my memory as one of the best desserts I’ve ever eaten), as she tells me that Grammes has something similar. I opt for their vanilla tart and a lemonade, and we go sit by the reiver and enjoy them. The lemonade is a delight, sharp but sweet; the flan very rich, maybe a little more tightly packed than I’d have liked, a looser consistency perhaps being more preferable, but in terms of the flavour, delicious. Let’s hope Hazel gets to go back before the next visit.