It just felt like the right fit for me in every way, and I immediately felt myself relaxing.
I love the way women dress here – relaxed, understated and not a nose-bleed-height heel in sight. Except on tourists who are willing to risk their ankles on the uneven cobblestones.
And in spite of the bad wrap Parisians often get, we’ve found them friendly and helpful. They don’t gush and they don’t try to impress, but they seem comfortable in their own skin and I like that.
Best of all, after years of having conniptions over conjugations, I’m finally speaking French without hyperventilating… ordering breakfast, asking a man on the street for directions (and even understanding the answer!), and buying supplies at the marché.
Later, exploring the deliciously charming streets of St-Germain de Prés and nearby Left Bank neighbourhoods, I could very well have been in heaven.
At the end of our first day in Paris, EB has already walked my legs off… and hopefully the day’s indulgences.
I suspect tomorrow will involve, among other things, not taking the lift up the Eiffel Tower. As if 88 stairs up to our apartment isn’t enough already. Not that we’ve counted.