It's 5am and I'm wide awake. Ugh. And fuck you jetlag. So I'm writing. And I'm self-medicating with Cote d'Or. Totally a good idea right?
Paris has totally caught me on an angle I wasn't expecting, and pushing my world a little off-kilter. A question keeps rising to the surface of my mind: why don't I live here? Why didn't I give it a crack? It's the city I've always adored, I feel that emotionally I gre up here. So why bother with Sydney, London? I can work here. I can write here.
Paris is the most exquisite place I've ever been. Totally itself yet incredibly grand. Accessible. Deep with history. With the literary tradition. With my other love: fashion.
And one more question: is it too late? I think the answer's no. But it would be hard now. And maybe its just the holiday talking. I'm sure the charm wears off. But then after that there's the food. And then the wine. Maybe...
I did: everything that I wanted to do, in such a speedy visit. A dreamy wander along rue St Honore, some quality cafe and reading time, a chilly stroll through the Tuileries and more time in the Marais.
I ate: more croissants, a pain au chocolat for a healthy breakfast, steak frites and a cote du rhone for a late lunch, topped off with another cheeky vino and Nutella crepe on my walk back to the hotel to catch my 6pm shuttle to the airport.
I bought: some incredible tea from Mariage Freres, and nothing else! Feeling very restrained and very virtuous right now, although I did get very sorely tempted a number of times in Le Bon Marche. In particular, this incredible perfume company called Memo completely enchanted me with the Quartier Latin parfum. If I hadn't already splurged at Dyptique I might have jumped.
There was also this other thing, in Max Mara... it's incredible, unaffordable, but just so chic. So divine. Hey, a girl can dream right?!