One hundred and three

103. That’s the number of steps I climb, up a steep, crooked spiral staircase to reach my own little studio apartment in Paris – my home for the past 5 days.

My little home, on the top floor of a very old apartment building next to the famous Passage Brady, with an idyllic view of Parisian rooftops and chimney pots as far as the horizon. Every morning, I have opened my window shutters to watch the street below come to life, breathe in the amazing, mouth watering smell of fresh pastries wafting up from the artisan boulangerie patisserie on the street corner, watch the rows of fruit markets shelves be stacked with colourful fruits and vegetables… and then quickly close my windows and take in the rest behind glass, because it is sooo freaking cold.

Each day, I descend the 103 crooked steps to collect my oozing pain au chocolat and select one of the teensy little cafes with wicker chairs facing outwards toward the street and join the Parisians in drinking a morning espresso. Perhaps if I smoked, and could somehow master the art of ordering my Un Cafe in a version of French that actually sounds like French (prononcuation? not happening…what’s with all the skipping letters?) and work out a way to not to smile so goofily in my state of bliss while all of these events play out, well, I might actually blend in. But I can’t stop grinning, because I feel so lucky, so happy, so alive, so very much in love with France.

Alas, my incredible eight week adventure is too quickly winding to a close… I only have a quick stopover in Munich (to see the Christmas markets) and just 5 short days in London before I hop on that big plane and fly home, just in time for Christmas.

There are so many beautiful experiences left unwritten – while I have done my best to keep up with blogging the basics, I am conscious that I have progressively failed on the Europe front. Since the last entry (Princess and castles…seems forever ago) I have experienced authentic Tapas and Flamenco dancing in Barcelona, skipped a few heartbeats at the sheer magnificence of Sagrada Familia (is there anything in this world more beautiful?), enjoyed the magnificent vista from the lookout at Gaudi’s Park Guell, roamed the Ramblas, made friends with some lovely Aussies (and LOVED being able to freely speak English for a day), enjoyed enchanted Faerie wine at ‘El Bosc De Les Fades’ (a Faerie bar, including indoor waterfall, trees and candlelit lanterns… ohmygosh) learned my lesson that winter sun in Barcelona does not equal ballet flats (numb toes, ouch), been inspired at Musee Picasso, bought fruit and yummy produce at the incredible Barcelona markets (sans rabbits), roamed the winding, narrow cobbled streets of rural Southern France, listened to nuns sing melodic prayers in a deserted Abbey in the French countryside, drank Vin Chaud while exploring the magical Christmas markets by night, and generally fallen in love in, I mean with, the city of Montpellier… all before hopping on the train back to Paris.

Below is a brief visual synopsis of some all of these abovementioned experiences… first Barcelona, then Montpellier/french countryside. I have hundreds of Paris photos to sort through before you can see those.

Much love xx