Paris is irresistible, even to the most reluctant of lovers. I had come with feet a little dragging, wanting to visit Barcelona instead. I thought two years was too soon but as I took my cousin around to show her the places I dearly enjoyed, I couldn’t help but be drawn again into its spell myself. Paris always manages to catch me by surprise, with her secret nooks and charming pockets of fountains and gardens. It is those rarest of places that seem authentic and cozy despite being a huge city.
It was the beginning of spring. The green leaves were beginning to unfold themselves and the budding flowers hold promises of warmth just as the people themselves were putting away their dreary winter coats and embellishing themselves with airy cottony dresses and light playful scarves. Of course, Paris wouldn’t be Paris if it didn’t throw a bit of a tantrum and so we also had a bit of rain on our first day but it still managed to be charming enough to keep it light and showery, as if saying, here, ‘let me shiny up the roads for you’.
I can spend hours walking in her streets, sit in her cafes to gaze endlessly at all her sights and listen to the French speak French. I come away again, wistful that the stay was not a bit longer.
Paris is always a good idea.