The weather is crappy. The sun smiles for me to think for one minute that it's good to head out before the grey clouds take over and monopolize the sky. Once in awhile raindrops hammer the window panes, but the scariest of all would have to be the strong winds. I am half-worried that the window panes would shatter in the untiring gusts of wind.
Still, instead of hitting the shops and jostling with the increasing tourist crowds as I'd initially planned, a slow Monday might just be the perfect continuum from a chilled-out weekend. It felt good to not give a toss at all to time this weekend, and to fill all our intervals with sleep and catnaps. And good food.
I am certain that this six-week jaunt has brought nothing but positivity to my mind and spirit, but I'm not too sure about the accumulated effects of good European food on my body. I don't think I realized how much I actually loved food until this trip, although Ceci and my sis insist that they've known it all along. As Ceci aptly puts it: "When we're not shopping, we're either eating, or looking for new places to eat at."
And B insists that he's been thinking about food more often since my arrival in Paris. He was making fajitas one evening when he told me, "I don't know what's happening to me. I never used to cook like this." "It's love," I told him.
I don't think either of us realized just how good a cook he was until
I'll do up a proper post on his culinary adventures but for now, I'm plugging in Lanxi's Billy's Bootcamp into my Apple. I can't miss out on epicurean pleasures, so I have to work hard to minimize the damage. And to prepare for an evening of more food and drinks with B, Romain and Marine.
While I prance around the apartment, enjoy the belated post on Guethary, and I'll also urge you to re-read my post on Rome, for I've added to it the many scribblings from my travel journal.
No comments:
Post a Comment