AROUND PARIS IN 7 DAYS: DAY 1

A little over a week ago my hair was facing violent tangles and what-knots (pun intended) as the weather was colder, windier and much sweeter than it is now. I was in Paris for the first time in ever and it was all the synonyms from stunning to beautiful. My camera lens climaxed at the sites so needless to say my reaction was a good x10.

I might group a couple of days in order to show you my favorite details around the trip.

So without further adieu: Around Paris in 7 Days: The Series

(and yes I chose to write in Italic just for the pure romance of it all.)

Day 1

Reporting to you from a very uncomfortable seat because my bum has still never felt the precious goodness of sitting on business class furniture to this day, cheeks (and I do mean my posterior, yes) reddened with the infuriating jealousy at the sight of them business class lying-down-legs-up-sleep-masks-on-looking-as-comfortable-as-they-are-not-having-to-touch-stranger’s-legs-during-a-seven-hour-flight-people *BREATH*.

I’m some thousand feet above ground and I still see no food coming up and down the narrow isle. It’s colder than it should be even though I’m wearing like 163628 layers of clothing I still feel the chill touching my spine. and to answer your question Yes, I’m probably the most terrible person to travel with. I nag and whine until God himself places a firm hand over my mouth disapproving my unsanitary behavior. Your death sentence could easily be sending you off to an 18 hour flight with Yours Truly. I’m sorry it’s just the way it is, planes and I don’t mix at all. Until food starts arriving. And it’s not even the good kind! Damn. I wonder what the business-classers are having.

We’re finally on ground thank the pilot! 

It’s so clean! and cold! (not as cold as the inside of the flying machine I was in for the half a day though). 

Everything looks so fresh and grey. I might have just cleaned my glasses but this was something lovably out of the ordinary. Paris is much more graceful than its painting and songs. Although I do admire and finally understand the well-deserved tribute to such a beautiful city. Its grey skies don’t shed any light away from its lovely roads and vibrant greenery. I’m talking all dictionary here, I’m surprised beauty isn’t Paris’s synonym somewhere. Either way my little eyes have never seen cuter roads and shops and flowers and sceneries in their lifetime of seeing things. 

We were staying in a hotel in Porte Maillot, two roads near to the Arc de Triomphe. Big, square-shaped and often talked about in history and art class, it was bigger and bulkier than I had imagined. Yes, I was imagining a thin and delicate arc de Triomphe excuse my naivety. I touched the big block of history as to say I touched history itself, many times, in different places. We also walked in it, on it and through it until we got on top of it, isn’t this getting interesting? The more I saw of it the more beautiful it was because underneath (and more to say on top) of its solid rock surface lies one of the most breath-taking sceneries I’ve seen in my life *no exaggeration here*. 

Sadly enough my camera was going through unforgivably annoying phases that day after a long flight because it is a worse flyer than I am. Point is Paris was so overwhelmingly beautiful my lens was jealous and decided to make everything look utterly shitty. 

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After a long night/day/night of sleeping/waking/sleeping again. We head back to the hotel exhausted but cold enough to sleep smiling.

Sincerely,

SLS.

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