Dear Blog, I went to Paris.
Sounds kind of silly doesn't it, but for the past five years this blog has been the closest thing to a diary I have ever kept. A dynamic journal with a search function, this weblog has become a part of my life: a place where I share, document and connect. Before I ramble endlessly about all that blogging continues to mean to me, I'll continue with tonight's dreamy entry.
Dear Blog, I went to Paris. One month ago ...
If you're just tuning in, you can catch the trip's backstory
here but in a nutshell, once I decided to go to London there was no way I was skipping Paris. And Paris looks like this. Like a post card. Like a work of art. Like a dream.
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Here is the shop where I needed to communicate with gestures that I would like some ribbon cut. |
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Silly me. I could barely keep my mercis from my bon jours but tried my best. |
My traveling companion / beloved oldest sister
Betsy, booked two nights for us at the elegant
Hotel Caron de Beaumarchais where she had stayed years before after reading about it in a magazine. We took a taxi directly from the train, dropped off our luggage and began strolling
le Marais section of Paris.
Every few steps I would look at Betsy, grab her arm and say, "We're in Paris! This is crazy!" and she'd always reply, "No. It's wonderful!"
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Click to enlarge |
Our first night we just walked and walked and walked ...
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Bon jour! |
We walked to
Angelina to sip cups of rich hot chocolate amidst grand surroundings.
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Brilliant |
We walked to the Roue de Paris and took a spin for a brilliant aerial view of the city at night.
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Skipping the Metro and taxis to explore! |
We walked across the Seine River on the gilded Alexander III bridge, always keeping our eyes on our prized destination, our grounded North Star ...
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Me and Betsy |
GASP ... the Eiffel Tower.
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Pinch me! |
I didn't go up, I wanted only to gaze upon it. It's beautiful. It's magic. It's Paris.
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No dinner? No problem. Il est merveilleux! |
We returned to the vicinity of our hotel for dinner and wandered into Le Coude Fou. At once rustic and vibrant, the bistro features walls covered in art, chalkboards scrawled with long lists of wines, and tables of friends spilling over with lively conversation. With no translations on the menu, it was definitely a place for locals and me with my limited French, obviously only ordered wine and a cup of soup for dinner. C'est la vie! It was wonderful.
Who could sleep?
Stay tuned for the final day of our whirlwind trip. And always remember, it all begins with a thought, with an idea, with a dream!
xo
elyse