We spent five hours wandering the insanely frigid and wet streets of this beautiful city. I wore a beret, because that’s what one does here (with naturally curly hair that has been blown out).

Primarily, we detoured around all of the yellow vests demonstrations, and landed at La Frégate brasserie where for one very quick split second, we considered sitting outside beneath the heaters and wrapping ourselves in the provided blankets. Then we walked in, felt the heat, and outside very simply went the way of the dodo bird. Onion soup, and french fries warmed us while a macchiato gave me much needed energy after the tundra had sucked everything I had to give.

Apart from the conversation, two favourite things from our lunch. First, we watched some kind of instagram model (we assume instagram) stand outside and have her photograph taken in a myriad of poses. Though interesting, I was more interested in her curator who, when another woman came and stood partially in frame, he stared at her with so much scorn, I started laughing. When he and me made eye-contact, and I didn’t stop laughing, he finally creased his handsome face and started to laugh. I pointed at the photo usurper and shrugged, and he shook his head as if to say “What can I do, she is so stupid and probably does not eat the right cheese and look at her bad hair.”

The second was when we asked the table next to us to take our photograph, the one above. Because we were back-lit, it was difficult to capture. Suddenly, the two women not taking the photo pulled out their phones to light us up. It was hilarious, and I hope these Aussie broads keep lighting their way through Paris.

Our trek was, of course, to one of the greatest bookstores in the world –

I can spend hours here. I could in fact live here very comfortably if it weren’t for humans. Because people are such schmucks. I usually always buy a local author, but I read so many French authors on the regular that I didn’t feel this was necessary. Instead, I picked up the first publication from my favourite author (and postcards).

Wandering home through the 5e arrondissement proved as colourful as I had hoped. We ended our evening having dinner in pyjamas as home and I am now in bed listening to the pouring rain as it cozies up to my bedroom window; this, my favourite sound in the world.

Sweet dreams, friends.

Today, I am grateful for:
1. Having such ready access to food.
2. Being able to take a shower and use a bathroom without the help of anyone else.
3. Knees and hips that let me walk for 5 hours without yelling at me.

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