Has the world not been given the memo? Why does no-one realise that Paris belongs to me? It is mine, my secret city, the one where I wander down the streets that bring forth in me the most heart wrenching emotions and make me remember why the French Capital has been immortalised in so many songs, paintings and films.
Going back there was the emotional experience I expected, but also held quite a few surprises. Firstly, I had forgotten how expensive the city is. Ridiculously expensive, like 5 times more to sit and have a coffee than Northallerton or Budapest. And the cost of everything just makes people shrug their shoulders and say 'well, it is Paris...'
Seeing D and L again felt like no time had passed at all, but it has. Three years since I stood weeping at the airport, with D, L and J watching me go through the departure gate like a scene from French Kiss, I walked on, didn't look back and moved to Budapest. There was a bit of messing about in the middle, but too long a story for here and now.
The Five days went by in a whirl of dinner parties in the 16th arrondisement, summer soldes at Le Printemps and walks in the Jardin du Luxembourg that felt some-how like the moment had passed. I love Paris, and I have loved it and missed it while I was away, now that the mad ideal I had built up in my mind has been knocked down a bit maybe I can enjoy the city for what it is...romantic, breathtaking and special. Only for me though.
