After Paris and I discovered our undying love for each other (I’d like to think the feeling was mutual, anyway), several days passed in a blur of sightseeing, paparazzi-style-dog-photo-taking, eating, and lots and lots of walking. I visited the Eiffel Tower and while I didn’t climb it (yet), I did enjoy ice cream in its shadow. From there I walked to the Arc de Triomphe and then all the way down the Champs-Élysées to the Obélisque de Louxor, all of which you can google photos a-plenty of, so I’m going to skip out on showing you those.
There are, however, sights to be seen in this area that the almighty Google-God might not deign to open your eyes to.
Such as sailor boys, presumably not in the midst of Fleet Week shenanigans:
A woman outside Laduree with an… erm… unique sartorial style (what would Peggy Entwhistle say?):
And pugs pugs pugs, which I grabbed and stole and kidnapped and ran away with and kept in my suitcase for eternity in my head. (At my high school, in year eight, a girl started selling mice which the purchasing students kept in their lockers. It was awful. Not because of the ensuing smell in the locker area, which was also the canteen-chocolate-muffin-selling area, but because, seriously, who thinks it’s okay to store mice in a locker? Even if they are tail-less inbred mice. Sheesh. Stealing French pugs is the far more moral option.)
I’ve wanted to try green papaya salad for donkey’s years now, and I defy any of you to tell me a better place to finally do so than in Paris. Because when in Rome… right? Wait, what country are we in again?
This was lovely and refreshing, what with the fresh prawns, herbs, papaya, and the crunch of peanuts, but it ultimately erred a bit too much on the sweet side to earn the love I gave Paris as whole. Also, it was a tad more “soup” than “salad”, as my imaginary kidnapped pug could probably have drowned in the amount of dressing left in the bowl at the end*. Nevertheless it hit the spot, but really, no food can taste bad when eaten in such wonderful company.
After lunch I made my way to the Bastille Markets, yet despite being advertised as ending at 2:30pm, by 1:45pm it was all over. Not to worry! I explored the Place des Vosges and the Victor Hugo Museum (photos to come… most likely), found a little health store with fantabulous tofu options, and got my photo of the monument where the Bastille used to be.
This was also the night I discovered the best (store-bought) cookies in the world, and I’m determined to try to recreate them back home. The home I’m getting ever closer to… Tomorrow I’m spending all day in planes/airports en route to New York, which is my last stop (for 3 nights only) before the flight home. Time to stock up on flavoured peanut butter, methinks.
*He’s not a very good swimmer.