I’m pining for another vacation, throwing ideas out on where to visit next as if aiming darts at a spinning globe. One thing remains – I miss Paris…
(Top Left to Bottom Right: éclairs from some random bakery near Porte de Clignancourt; one of the many Soupe à l’oignon – I can still taste the broth soaked cheesy bread; where decadence is born – Pierre Hermé; the view walking along the Seine; Angelina’s famous hot chocolate with a brioche roulée au chocolat; one of my favorite side street discoveries – my heels would hate me but I’d love to live in the apartment that overlooks this nook.)
Perhaps I’ve become obsessed with one too many Audrey Hepburn movies set in Paris. My days in Paris were spent munching on macarons, drinking decadently thick hot chocolate, and walking along the Seine. My nights were spent marveling at the splendor of the city. I’ve never known a city to be more beautiful in the gloom of the rain, but when Audrey in Sabrina said: “It must rain on your first day in Paris,” I took this very seriously and submit myself to the beauty of the city of lights. Maybe a part of me is just dying to live out the Paris Nights/New York Mornings music video from Corinne Bailey Rae, but I’m dying to go back. Perhaps I’ll return for a visit later this year. So I can dive into a bowl of French onion soup, and head over to Pierre Herme.
For now, the destinations on my hit list (it’s sure to grow by tomorrow):
1. Portugal 2. Brasil 3. Hawaii 4. St. Lucia 5. Jamaica* 6. The United Kingdom 7. Italy 8. Thailand 9. France 10. Australia
Here I sit, in JFK counting down the hours until my flight leaves for Spain. See, I was so excited that I may have slightly over-budgeted my travel time and ended up getting here approximately 4 hours before my flight. I’ve been dying to go to Spain for years and for one reason or another, it’s just happening now. Perhaps I should have fulfilled my promise to myself to learn a bit more Spanish before embarking on this trip, but it’s now or later, and I prefer now. One week in Spain is exactly what the doctor ordered. From Las Ramblas to the beaches and on to Parc Guell, Barcelona here I come. Tapas and Sangria are on the menu and a full report when I get back. Until then…
I’m a fan of saving, so long as it doesn’t keep me from enjoying some good food, booze and miscellaneous shopping and entertainment activities. Perhaps when I’m making the kind of bank that I can drop $1,900 on a piggy bank I won’t be in need of a piggy bank as stately as this one. Perhaps I should stick to bank accounts and pink ones, but I can’t help but adore this one. It’s a beautiful sort of grown up keepsake that I’d probably fill with coins from different countries to add a little intrigue.