what a difference a day makes

once again, I find it true:
whenever you get the chance to get away from your everyday business, and may it be unreasonably short, and expensive, or even inconvenient- do it. you get so much more in return than you could ever imagine.

so much to see. passing by countless cafés and bars, I felt like a sponge, taking in all the faces and scents and sights. the little chinese girl behind her counter of take out cantonese food, the very elegant older madâme on the metro, the group of young actors outside some small theatre, with their sincere postures, clothed in neatly purposed sloppiness, their gitane in a corner of their mouths. I walked all the way from sacre coeur to the opera garnier and rested on the stairs. taking my own route through all the little streets, lesser populated and touristy than the big boulevards, I found a small indian store full of spices and jars and exciting scents, and bought a little bag of roses cristalisées for anne. later, I finally got to read my thoreau book, having another cafe créme at another bar. I haven't yet decided if I find that cheesy or awesome.

later, when anne was done shooting, we went to a french restaurant a friend had recommended. there was a sign on the door:
"real french cooking, no vegetarian food."
we felt we had found the perfect place, hidden from the big streets, offering genuine french cuisine. naturally, our mere presence destroyed the exquisit non-touristy atmosphere, but that is the burden the travelling have to shoulder whenever they set foot outside their own home.
the food was superb. I tried my very first foie gras, and gras it was- my tastebuds died in shock, I guess, it was so good. a bottle of bordeaux later (for the constant readers: it definitely was a bottle of the good kind), we walked up to sacre coeur again and enjoyed the view over paris.

and right now, we are having breakfast in bed, and yet again I shall have to decide between romantic and cheesy.

it's too beautiful, though.