I've never been to Paris...until now.
I am flying out for the City of Lights, the city of art, fashion, food. The City of Everything. And not to be overlooked: beautiful sounding curses. I am a purveyor of expletives.
I have a general idea of what we will do and explore, but I don't feel the need to race to every museum or point of interest. I am excited to wander, with purpose, and aimlessly. I am looking forward to sitting and watching. My plan is to split time between the usual tourist sites and local cafes and restaurants, shops and galleries.
One of our first few stops will be to a local Morrocan restaurant that serves vegetarian fare, a cafe and boloungarie.
I am obssessing over which shoes to pack (my favorite shoes are impractical for walking on cobblestones-sany uggestions?) and clothes I should pack. I'm limiting myself to a small suitcase so that I am forced to edit my choices.
I have packing anxiety. I have at least one packing dream a month that usually involves packing at the last minute, packing too much, usually of the wrong thing, or of luggage seams bursting at inopportune times.
This has to be a disorder with its own name. Google time!... (and this is what I found: Packing Anxiety Disorder).
Whatever I pack won't matter one bit, (well, maybe the shoes matter).
Paris will be gorgeous. The food will be delicious. I will fall in love with another city.
I will post images once I'm back.