Thirty-six hours in Paris. Not a lot of time to work with when it comes to a city like Paris. So what do you do when on such a time crunch? Well, for one, I tried to start an insurrection by singing a tune from Les Miserables. Shockingly, not effective. Dan found a steak frites place right around the corner from our hotel, which was truly to die for. And he tried to kill me by making us walk up the many flights of stairs that meet visitors who wish too ascend the famed Eiffel Tower. (There was also an elevator-to-the-top option, but why do that when you can climb 704 steps?) We witnessed no fewer than two proposals while at the uppermost portion of the tower. Then toasted them in spirit, choosing to forgo an actual glass of expensive bubbly, available to purchase at the bubbly station. (Or “champagne bar” if you’re feeling classy. Which, when in Paris, I think you’re contractually obligated to be and feel classy.)
One day, I shall meet the Parisian streets with time available to truly explore the place. But until then, I’ll just have to make do with these brief, sweet encounters.
Cheers!
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