Puglia via Paris

The writing prompt is what have you been up to, and my answer would be what HAVEN'T we!

Air travel is such a weird, time out of time experience. It's a bit of a rabbit hole, absolute wonder at the very expansiveness of the life we get to live interspersed with utter boredom. We had an interesting travel companion. On his way home to Senegal to visit his parents and his lemon farm. 6,3 as he asked us to call him, was so profoundly, clearly, happy and grateful to be in Canada. That's such a great reminder. He insisted on gifting his ring to Brad, a Senegalese turquoise that he casually brushed of as easily found as pebbles on his fields at home.

Funny thing happened on the way, all across Greenland there was another passenger jet clearly flying nearby. Never seen that before, and it made us uneasy.

So, we land in the frenzy of CDG, and remarkably, collect luggage and passport stamps in a breeze. A hitch in our eSIM setup is vexing, but we're on the train to Paris in short order. And the trains are running! The wins are stacking up already.!

Bags are dropped at the hotel hours before check-in time, as is so often the case. But we have our plan of attack on arrival days: lots of outdoors, lots of walking, no sleep until reasonable hour😊

What a fantastic walk, we are one street over from the famed, colorful Rue Cremiex which in turn leads us to the leafy green Promenade Plantée. The OG highline park, a disused elevated railway line turned into urban oasis. It's clearly popular with joggers, so I especially appreciated posted signs reminding that it is a promenade, walkers have priority!

Following this peaceful stroll, we defininitely are hiking the next part.... Notre Dame is about 2.5 km away. The sun has come out, and so have the crowds. An amazingly tolerant line snakes back and forth across Place jean Paul and we all patiently wait our turn to appreciate that she's still here.

This cathedral l touches me in a way no other does. Loud excited whispers swell in volume until hushed by an automated voice. There's a gift shop now. It doesn't matter. These things will pass. And the brilliant joyous excess of opposing rose windows will never fail to impress. But the quiet beauty of faded and worn stones underpinning the more muted windows under soaring arches....this is beauty that was crafted and gifted in love and that will always shine through.

I love Paris. It's rambunctious and elegant, noisy smelly crowded.....and so very full of beauty and history and life! I'll never not love a balcony tumbling over with riots of geraniums, I'll never not be absolutely thrilled to see a flash mob of morotcycle cops storm the Bastille as we are walking by!Meer informatie