I didn’t mean to fall in love with Paris. I thought I was immune, romantic in theory but overhyped in practice. But then it got under my skin.
This city knows exactly what it is and doesn’t care if you’re impressed. That’s part of the charm. It won’t try to win you over, but if you meet it halfway, it’ll make you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
I've been four times now and each time, the city met me where I was but gently insisted I slow down. It’s true what they say: it’s the city of love. But no one tells you it’s not just about romantic love, it’s love in all forms. Love for a moment. Love for a place. Love for yourself. Love that doesn’t need to last forever to feel real.
Sure, there’s great food and better wine but that’s not why I keep coming back. It’s the in-between stuff. The feeling that anything could happen and that somehow that’s enough.
café et croissant svp
à manger
à boire
musées et culture
jardins, places et rues
un petit peu de shopping
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