My little Parisian fix

A week in Paris, in April. Pas mal.

It had been well over a year since I had been in the City of Light (and Dark Chocolate). Oh, how nice it was to be back.

 The markets…

The architecture...

The long, meandering walks and heart-pumping Velib rides...

 

The sweets!

Nope, no shame in overindulging in sweets.

I don’t know when I’ll get back to Paris again. Maybe sooner than expected. But it might also be longer than I want. For now, I’m still riding the high from everything I saw, tasted, felt and marveled at during that lovely week in Paris.

Paris, not Paris

There's nothing like classic Paris.

But I also love the glimpses you get further afield. The views and neighborhoods that make you feel you're seeing Paris for the first time.

Look up. Be present. Notice with all of your senses. The lessons in Paris are lessons for life.

Today in Paris

It was lovely. It was relaxed. It unfolded, the way it’s meant to.

I had un sandwich club at Café Flore…

...and a magical madeline at Blé Sucre.

It felt so wonderful Velib’ing across Le Pont Sully that I tried capturing it in pictures.

Whoa...

Whoa!

The day was filled with those clichéd Parisian moments and sights you just can’t make up. 

I saw cats…

… and dogs.

Was happily inside the Pompidou Centre when it rained…

… and then (happily) back outside for spectacularly sunny moments.

 Today in Paris, it was perfect.

The days are young

Friends, I am getting old. I have spent the past three days ambling around Paris, wondering how I used to do it. Zipping from one corner to another, eating here, sipping there, taking in art… I’m doing my damnedest because who knows when I’ll be back again, but I wish I could kick it into a higher gear to ensure I conquer everything I want this week.

Then again, I realize it’s time to just go with it. Move at a slower pace. Stop at the café for (another) Perrier. See one less thing that day. Because that is the beauty of it all, n’est-ce pas? Those little moments and indulgences.

A visit to the Boulevard Raspail Marché.

Aperos with a friend at Café Flore.

Lunch in the sun at Le Comptoir du Relais.

It's all a joy, being here, squeezing in whatever I can. It's the sound of the traffic. The feel of Velibing. Seeing all the Plane trees and crepe stands and manicured gardens. There are the old sights...

And the infusion of new.

And as I like to think, we'll always have Pierre Hermé.