Look for this sign on a side street near the market to find le Baron Rouge, a wonderful old wine bar in Paris. Or check out the neighborhood map with my story.

It's always exciting when a new Travel section comes out, and April is a gem if I do say so myself.  I discovered the d'Aligre neighborhood in Paris last fall but held off writing about it and two really nice Paris restaurants until now. I  don't want readers to OD on France stories so I try to spread them out.

 But if you follow these blogs you'll know that I recently won some major awards for the earlier France stories and I am happy as can be. This blog also is a chance to show off some more of the photos I shot during my trips.

We could not believe our eyes when we saw the cheese plate delivered to our table at Astier in Paris. It was at the end of an incredible meal.

Stacked crates of wine bottles are sidewalk table at leBaron Rouge, which probably hasn't changed in 50 years.


And United Airlines saved my day in early March when they offered me a chance to try their brand new tarmac transfer at Newark Liberty. It's something available to only the most frequent travelers (not me!) but it allowed me to make my flight to Bonaire on a day when I wakened to find the power out and yet another snowstorm  blowing in to delay (and almost cancel) my flights. Like many many travelers I've experienced my share of canceled flights during this endless winter and I was determined that day  to get away to the Caribbean for a break.

The curved glass exterior of the Dali Museum reflects palms. Imagine how the view looks when seen from inside.

A bench made from one of Dali's melting timepieces is  in the garden overlooking a ficus to which visitors have attached their wishes.

When I visited the Dali Museum in St. Petersburg, Fla. I was astonished at the way its architecture seemed to almost replicate the surreal art inside. Its founders, the Morses, were friends of my parents so I knew the museum almost was located in Cleveland. I've wanted to tell that story forever, so now I have.
This travel section also gives you the lowdown on a brand new river cruise, what's new at Kings Island, and lots of close to home and more distant travels you may wish to take in coming months.
I've collected them all in this blog so you can just click on the contrasting copy to read them and enjoy a few more of my photos than will appear in print.
The print section goes to subscribers on Sunday, April 13, and I hope it's a keeper. I really enjoyed putting it together. And if you aren't yet tired of France, stand by for a Paris shopping story I expect to do.

This market in the Place d'Aligre neighborhood of Paris included a butcher selling horsemeat.

Me either. But I understand it's often eaten in France and every time I get a menu on visits there, I scan it for "cheval".
Although I'm an adventurous eater, I don't know if I would eat horse even if I had the chance. Along with most other people in this country and in Britain I share a distaste for dining on this gentle giant.

Several cuts of horsemeat were displayed in  this butcher's case, including pricey filet.

 People were lined up to buy horse meat, displayed in a butcher's case at a Paris market I'm now writing about. It will be a story April 13 in Travel about my chance visit to a Paris neighborhood that seemed lost in time. I discovered the neighborhood early one Sunday morning when my overnight flight from  the U.S. had arrived in Paris hours before my hotel would permit check-in. The room I'd reserved still was occupied and I had a half dozen hours to kill before I could wash up and take a nap.
As I usually do, I'd done a Google Earth search before my trip to see what I'd find in the walking distance neighborhood of my hotel. I've discovered that a good brisk walk in the early morning sunshine clears away the cobwebs when you arrive someplace in the morning but it's still 2 a.m. at home. Not much goes on on Sundays in Paris but I'd discovered a farmers market, said to be one of the oldest in Paris, about five blocks from my hotel in the Gare de Lyon neighborhood on the city's east side.
It turned out to a wonderful experience, somewhat surreal to me, because it seemed to be a neighborhood straight from the 1950s when  Edith Piaf lived and sang on the streets of Paris.
I found an article in Time magazine that describes that taste of horse as somewhat sweet and tells about how horse is embraced by tghe French but viewed with disgust by Americans and Brits.
I would love to hear from anyone who has eaten horse and am linking here to my email since comments on my blog don't seem to take.