>> "...Daddy's home!" Yes, those were the first words to hit my ears after stepping off the plane. And no, they weren't from my boyfriend's mouth (or we wouldn't still be dating), but rather from that of a rotund, bald-pated, middle-aged man who promptly waddled towards the aforementioned donut shop. What a grand welcome home to the good ol' U.S. of A.
Paris was, hmm... "interesting," shall we say. Don't get me wrong, I love the City of Lights, but it's just not as I remembered it. It could be because everyone and their little dog too (Parisians love their little dogs) were en vacances (on vacation, en anglais). Goofball that I am, I forgot that August is the time when everyone floods out of Paris and takes their 4-5 weeks of holiday elsewhere. Needless to say, the streets were a un peu deserted, the shops were un peu closed, and I was un peu frustrated.
Take this, for example. There I was, walking along the Rue de Rivoli towards the Centre Pompidou, and I came across this amazing shoe store. Like seriously, the kind of shoe store you would find only in Paree. Take a look and see for yourself -- now that is the kind of shoe store you would want to go into, non? Those Victorian-style boots were reeling me in, for sure, for sure. But of course, the shop was closed -- Paris in August is a real coquette -- it has that "you want but you can't have" ideal about it.
So, although I wasn't able to get much quality shopping done, and there weren't many sophisticated Parisiennes running around for me to photo-stalk (sorry to disappoint), I did promise you stories. And believe you me, Paris still had its moments. But for right now, you'll just have to wait. That's right, I'm leaving you with a cliff-hanger. And a picture of a really cute A.P.C. necklace, because it is French, after all (as well as another one of those things I want, but just can't have). Oh, and one more thing: take it from me -- if you choose to visit Paris, don't do it in August. It just doesn't do the place justice.