Paris, A Never Ending Pleasure

As everybody, I have the intimate illusion that the wonderful moments lived during my holiday trip could appear in my mind along the starting season and help me like a shield to reinforce me when the complicated issues of daily life appeared. The selected destination was Paris, a place that make us dream and it is part of collective fantasy. I went arm in arm with my Parisian love. The Asian touch of his origins drove us to begin in district 13th: Chinatown. It was impressive

I am Spanish with a Mediterranean character which is far away from what I found there. So much fresh fragrances of vegetables and fruits unknown, well worth the visit to one of the biggest supermarkets of Asian food, Tang Frère. There is not less variety or exotism in surrounding restaurants from all over Asia. Right! That must be tasted, make an election it is hard but the phò soup in the Vietnamese restaurant Phó14 was as delicious as popular. In Chinatown you really feel transported. Paris concentrates not just the best of Europe, but also the distillation of many years of being open to the whole world.

I’ve lived so many experiences in Paris! Rolling skating along the Seine margins converted in beach, with magicians, salsa or rock & roll courses… Petanque matches at sunset time, waving the bateaux from the deckchairs.

Crossing the beautiful bridges I saw the padlocks remembering how many couples felt the need of leaving one prove of his love in front of the incredible landscapes. The walks by Opera, Le Louvre, La Bastille…

Des Champs-Élysées with its terraces of wicker chairs painting the bistros with his colors. At night I sat in one of them which belongs to one of the emblematic restaurants in the renowned relationship between Paris and the 7th Art, Le Fouquet’s.

Regarding to the Arc de Triomphe, and sipping my café au lait, I dreamed I was one of the stars in the pictures hanging on the walls, enveloped with the essence of that perfume confined in his crystalline Tag Mahal, that blinked from the shop window besides me. Wait! Was it the palace for the Madame of the little mouse scurrying around the wicker legs?

Neither can I forget our good luck being late to the Petit Palais exposition. We ended seeing baccarat and tiffany’s glasses, under the gaze of women in modernist dresses from their frames and pedestals. They made me forget my frustrated intend of visiting the upper floor with the Yves Saint Laurent exposition, desired by a more consumerist facet of me. The adjective undeserved of Petit, is due to its majestic brother le Grand Palais, that looks like the greenhouse of blooming art yet undiscovered by me.

The catacombs of Notre-Dame sheltered us from the rain. We escaped to Versailles, walked among the trimmed lime trees, ate galletes and drank cider from Brittany in a charming restaurant hided in a passage... Please, don’t wake me up!

E Vicente-Sevilla

Read our Vietnam holidays travel guide for more information on Vietnam.

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