Paris Thoughts

2mg of melatonin plus two Simply Sleep is the long-sought solution for knocking both Jess and me out through an entire red-eye flight.

I still feel like crap the next day.

Even after two Prontalgine.

There’s a big difference between ‘in shape’ and ‘able to walk eight to ten miles a day through a city, several days in a row, without excruciating soreness’.

French people have so much fucking style.

Also, they will eat absolutely anything.

What idiot came up with the European system of leaving your room keys at the hotel’s front desk each time you head out? Even if I’d never seen one of the many receptionists before, showing back up with a smile and a “due cent due” was enough to score the corresponding room key.

If I had endless money, I’d dress in Lanvin every day.

Eating freshly baked baguette reminded me of a quote I once read from a French chef, who described the taste of US bread comparatively as ‘like eating a towel’.

I should really learn to speak French.

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