I took myself out to the Hemingway Bar at the Ritz. It’s not something I normally do, splurging on a 30-euro champagne cocktail. But I had a pretty good reason. I have a book contract.
For years, it’s something I’ve been working towards and wishing for. Finally, it’s happening. And I always told myself that when it did happen (persistence, my friends!), I’d take myself out to lunch at Union Square Café if I were in New York, or to the Ritz for champagne if I were in Paris.
So, here I am in Paris, there I went to the Ritz. I had a beautiful champagne cocktail, adorned with a flower, accompanied by cucumber water and mixed nuts and olives, served with class and charm, surrounded by Hemingway’s ghost. It was a private and perfect celebration.