“Open every Sunday.” Just one of the many reasons to love Paris.
Outdoor tables all year round and ice cream parlors that do not close in the winter. Two more reasons to love the City of Lights.
And Tarte Aux Pommes, that heavenly apple dessert without raisins lurking inside. Because raisins are gross.
One reason not to love Paris. On our holiday alone, 44 pieces of paper printed to “help the environment” by using public transportation.
The morning view in our neighborhood.
The rainbow interiors of the self-driving Metro Line and the Balenciaga department at Galleries Lafayette.
Impressions of those less-than-enamored with the French government.
The Hôtel de Ville, always spectacular.
No filter. No Instagram. Just Paris in its dreamy state.
A colorful cobblestoned pedestrian street near Gare de Lyon that has, sigh, been discovered by the over-primping, selfie-stick wielding tourist. It took great patience to await my turn to snap.
Cookware that both Julia Child and I could bond over.
And to end this terribly long series, Terminal 2F. Gorgeous, but oh-so-lacking in edible cuisine.