Paris, I drank your Koolaid.

January 29th, 2011

I resisted it forever…the allure, the cliches, the hyperbole. London was my town, and Paris, I assumed, was scary, overdone, completely predictable. I would be out of control because I couldn’t speak the language, but she had me at bonjour. From the moment I got off the Eurostar, I was starry-eyed and staring at everyone and everything. How can the French look so different, so distinguishable — as if they actually think about how they look before they leave the house? Even the smallest things are remarkable, but of course all of you who already fell at her feet know that. I only had one day, but it was love at first, second and third sight. At the end of the day, I fell off a curb (ancient and full of history, I’m sure) and had to anesthetize the pain on the train back with copious amounts of Champagne. So Paris broke my ankle and leaving broke my heart.

3 Responses to “Paris, I drank your Koolaid.”

  1. Oh Nikki, how I LOVE thinking of you taking in the City of Lights! Wish I was there with you! ::Carolyn

  2. nikki says:

    it was remarkable!

  3. I’ve been lucky enough to have been there multiple times. I’m not nearly as widely traveled as my husband, but I’ve spent time in London, Rome, New York, Brussels, Washington, and Paris and no where compares to Paris. It is magic, even on the greyest day. Especially on the greyest day. I was there during a snowstorm, walking the streets, and just, sigh, it was all good. Always.

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