When it’s hot hot hot in Paris like it is these days, it’s best to find reprieve underground to get where you need to go. On the Métro, I once saw a man who looked so much like a Buddha statue that I almost reached out and yanked on his long earlobe. Another time, I was ab
That lovely piece of poetry was recited by Don Draper in Mad Men. Oh how satisfying. More carousel goodness can be found in this Paris Letter, an oldie but a goodie. If you or someone you know is a carousel aficionado, you can order up the letter at my shop. It’s #2 on the Chinese men
Picture it: Santa Monica, 2010. I’ve just purchased my plane ticket for Paris. To celebrate, I go to my favourite place: the bookstore on Third Street Promenade. There I see a book on display. Lunch in Paris by Elizabeth Bard. I pick up the book, flip it over and read this on th
This morning I saw a BEAVER in the river behind my house. I know you think that because I’m Canadian I see this kind of thing all the time. Not so. First time. Christophe was both floored and disappointing. He imagined I was some kind of Pocahontas, well-versed in all woodland c
Tucked behind Bastille in the 12th arrondissement of Paris is the famed-to-locals-but-secret-to-everyone-else rue Crémieux. When I first came upon this street I had one thought: “How did they get away with it?!” Paris has a slew of rules on what colours you can paint your
It was a sunny day in Paris. I was heading to the copy shop to get more copies of Paris Letters when I came upon a special little artisan market. This isn’t the usual market that appears each weekend. This was smaller and more quaint. The actual producers of the actual products
March 20th is Macaron Day in France. It’s one of those made up marketing stunts to get you to buy a macaron or 20 at your local patisserie. Here’s how it works: 1. You walk in to donate a pittance to some charity. 2. In thanks you are given one “free” macaron.
Imagine being good at making, oh say, cream puffs. You’re so good at this one dessert that you decide you’re going to open a café and just serve cream puffs, tea and coffee. That’s it. One dessert. And it works. This is Odette. The charming little café at 77 rue gala
“My dear, In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love. In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile. In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm. I realized, through it all, that… In the midst of winter
A sad day in beloved Paris. Paris was the first place I felt that my little blogging life was honoured. I could flash my journalist card anywhere and doors would open. Big burly security men at the entrances of museums would hold back throngs of tourists to allow me into the new show.