One case shows the four holes left in the intestine of a lieutenant-colonel after Hunter’s unsuccessful attempt to remove the bullets.Among the more exotic animal specimens is a baby crocodile still attached to its yolk, a dissected camel’s hump and an aardvark embryo. Some, like the baby kangaroo and bottled elephant, were sent back to Hunter across the seas by the earliest explorers.Commentary over, we scuttle out. Nobody is keen to be left behind with the grim collection in the dark. Yet it is not the sinister side of primitive medicine that leaves a lasting impression on the nurses, so much as amazement that their predecessors achieved so much.”People are always surprised by how little has changed,” confirms Sue Weir. “Other things have come full circle.” Although apothecaries no longer grind herbs, about 80 per cent of modern medicines derive their origins from plants. Surgical instruments have changed remarkably little since Victorian days – doctors still use a saw for amputations.Sue Weir’s medical history tours cost £25 for a half day and £52 for a full day for groups of 10 or more, including all transport and admission fees. Both coach and walking tours can be arranged and these can be tailored to individual tastes Telephone 071-928 0765 for further details..

OLD myths die hard. One of the most persistent – that it is hard to get good value for money when eating out in Paris – is simply not true. The pound did lose about 12 per cent of its value against the franc when Britain left the ERM in September 1992, but the effect of fewer francs in the British tourist pocket has been amply offset by recession in France. This has forced Paris restaurants to peg and often cut their prices in order to hang on to customers. Of course, the unsuspecting tourist may still have to pay a ferocious price for anything from mineral water to a sandwich in cafes located near major tourist attractions. But scrutiny of any restaurant menu should ensure there are no nasty surprises whentaking pot luck – and remember, all prices include service. The four restaurants recommended here, which all offer three-course meals for F100-F200 (£12-£24) excluding wine, should convince doubters that Paris still offers unbeatable value in the mediumprice range (see box below for details).
Joel Fleury cut his catering teeth working for the excellent Flo chain of brasseries.

So it is no surprise that since taking over Le Grand Colbert two years ago he has made it a great favourite with a wide spectrum of customers – stockbrokers (not the braying London sort), librarians from the Bibliotheque Nationale next door, journalists and rag trade from the Sentier area and, late in the evening, theatregoers and actors.Le Grand Colbert is a cavernous brasserie with a lovingly restored 1830s decor. Large potted plants, mosaic flooring, globe lights, handwritten menus and bustling long-aproned waiters are classic brasserie features, as are the filets de hareng, sole meu n iere, choucroute, confit de canard, steak tartare (correctly prepared with chopped, not minced, beef) and an andouillette with the mysterious tag “A.A.A.A.A”. (This is not a rendering, in advance, of the sound about to be made by the contented customer, but a seal of approval from the Association Amicale des Amateurs d’Andouillettes Authentiques).But other dishes are of a kind less often found in brasseries: a gratin of apples in a Calvados, cream and Camembert sauce; poelon de morilles au porto; feuillete a la moelle (bone marrow); langoustines au sauternes on a bed of spinach and enclosed in filo pastry; and cold ratatouille, which is much better than it sounds and most refreshing when the weather is hot. If you are there in the summer, try to book one of the tables just outside the back entrance of the restaurant in the airy Galerie Colbert, which is part of the network of 19th-century arcades that are such an attractive feature of this part of Paris.The unspoilt Passage Geffroy-Didelot – an alleyway reached by going under an arch on Boulevard de Batignolles, 100 metres from Villiers metro station – used to be lined with small workshops. Three of them knocked into one have become L’Impatient, a long,narrow restaurant with glass all along one side and original turn-of-the-century posters and Doisneau photographs on the walls.

Its young owner-chef, Paul Blouet, trained at L’Huitriere, a noted fish restaurant in his home city of Lille, and this shows in his confident and inventive handling of seafood which never strains for effect. His tresse de saumon et de barbue (interwoven slivers of salmon and brill) is no gimmick: the slight but not total interpenetration of flavours is different from the kind you get in a panache (various fish simply presented together) or a marmite (in which they are stewed together).Blouet’s other great quality is his judicious use of herbs – many of which, along with some vegetables, he gets from a “pick and pay” market garden he discovered while cycling on the outskirts of Paris. Chive-flavoured foie gras, duck with orange and mint, ravioli with a filling of baby courgette skin, tarragon, parsley, chives and mint, pigeon with lavender and thyme ice-cream may sound outlandish, but all work magically well. The secret lies in the sometimes very small quantities of herbs used and their relative proportions – what the French call dosage.