I stepped out of the cab and onto the raw pavement of the street, catching a glimmer of the sun as it sparkled down through a speckled grouping of leaves from a tall tree. I felt a whisper of a warm breeze tickle the hair on my arm which I lifted into the air as if I was invited to catch a drifting dandelion flower gone to seed. “Merci, beaucoup!” I smiled to the driver and we waved each other goodbye. Turning sharply and unexpectedly twirling my skirt, I take my husbands hand as he held it out excitedly. His eyes glistened with wonder and I catch his gaze at the row of perfectly situated cafe’s to the Seine. There is a strong scent of a beautiful perfume in the air but I cannot, for the life of me, pick who it is coming from. Nethertheless, we crossed the street of quietly billowing cars and follow the sound of music to the edge of a bridge. As if by chance have we come across this masterpiece, but no, this was carefully orchestrated and dutifully planned. I feathered my hand across stone and iron in it’s time honored magnificence. Brushing the hair from my face and biting my bottom lip, tasting the remnants of butter from the morning croissant, it couldn’t be more perfect. And there it was. From the greenery cascading down the walls to the patina on the pitched roof, Notre Dame was exquisite. But that’s not when I fell in love…
Love can be fickle. Like, when you first love your favourite chocolate. I’m not talking about the everyday brands at the supermarket but the rich, smooth, decadent, number one favourite you buy at a boutique store. Your ultimate. The one that makes you think quite irrationally.
When I think about Paris and indeed France, I think about the people we met. The pharmacist who counted change in French as a lesson when I was buying cold and flu tablets, the restaurateur who opened his doors to us and warmly made us the best meal in Yvoire, the waiter who welcomed us with coffee when we thought they were closed and practically everyone that we met on the street, in a cab or in a shop.
And that’s when I fell in love. I fell in love with Paris, France but more importantly, it’s people. They imprinted on my heart, time and time again. And no one can take that away from me, or from anyone else.
