The romance, the rain, the air of sophistication, I want it all. Because when all is said and done, Paris will always have my heart.
It’s Audrey Hepburn’s fault.
At the tender age of 13, I fell in love watching her strike a pose and evade dodgy men in the most beautiful city I had ever seen.
While her rendition of Truman Capote’s number one novella will always be my favourite, her jaunts around the City of Light left a lasting impression on me.
And yet, it took me another 15 years to see it for myself.
Paris from afar
Our affair began as a long-distance relationship. Or rather, online. On a screen, in magazines and books, living vicariously through the tales of friends, I fuelled my love of Paris in every way imaginable. Except, rather interestingly, actually going there.
Why, I hear you ask?
Well, for the creative little dreamer I was (who am I kidding! Still am!), with her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and a cautious eye on the woes of the world, I couldn’t fathom it.
Little old me? In Paris? Whatever next!
Never meet your idols, they say. Perhaps it was a touch of that too?
As I got firmly into my twenties, I did try. Asking friend after friend if they’d indulge me in my fantasies of sipping coffee outside at Café de Flore, skimming the shelves at Shakespeare and Company, and shopping a 31 Rue Cambon; but it wasn’t meant to be.
Not then.
More on that another time.
The Immutable allure
Why Paris?
I’ve often wondered that myself.
What is it about the greying, somewhat sorrowful city that captivates me?
And beyond that, what is it about the French in general that I so utterly adore?
Aside from my love of bread, cheese, and wine, the beauty of the French language, and the incomparable fashion, it’s the allure.
Paris is effortlessly charming.
The glitz and glamour of the Parisian lifestyle has always appealed to me, the romantic that I am. In fact, despite being a country-born London girl, I embody it in my everyday life.
The preference for simple pleasures, the love of leisure, the elegance, and the natural affinity for quality over quantity.
The joie de vivre is what I live by.
And now?
The long-distance love affair continues.
At one point, I considered moving to Paris. Or, at least living between the two cities. I still may.
I dream of sharing my love of Paris with my future daughter, walking hand-in-hand along the Seine, drinking tea at the Ritz.
As fanciful as it sounds, I’ll find an enormous amount of joy in years to come as I look back on this post, as I’m doing exactly that.
(I’m a determined little thing when I want to be!)
Until then, an annual visit will have to do.
Or perhaps I need to use this blog post as my commitment to traveling more. An impromptu trip to Paris sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?
After all, Paris is always a good idea.