travel diary: paris

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I’m on my fifth coffee of the day, purchased only so I could use the bathroom and sit for a few minutes in the shade before making my way to my next appointment. It’s noon, and 101 degrees. It was 81 at 6 when I woke up this morning, and there is no air conditioning at my current location, just as there is no air conditioning at most cafes and restaurants throughout the city. I feel lucky to have it in my hotel room, but still, there is hardly a break from the heat, especially when coupled with the hot flashes I’ve been plagued with all night - a symptom of aging, not the weather. I love Paris, but will add mine to the chorus of voices already complaining about the heat. It’s bad, and though many seem to be shrugging their shoulders in a “oh well what can you do?” laissez-faire type of way, it also seems clear to many that this is not an anomaly anymore, rather, the new summer normal for a place that is generally not well equipped for it. The planet is warming, as anyone that has jumped into the Canal Saint-Martin lately can tell you.

I hate to complain. I am lucky to be here, and despite sweating through everything I own, Paris is still my favorite city in the world. But I am struggling on this trip. On the one hand, I love being here. I want to soak up everything the city has to offer and enjoy my free time and smoke my bi-annual cigarette while sipping cold rose from a bistro table as I watch the people pass by, admiring their sense of style and self. I want to do as the Parisians do: stroll leisurely through the winding streets, taking extended outdoor lunches, staying up late to enjoy the long days. I want to eat at the good restaurants and meander around the city and shop the sales. Every time I’m here, even if for work, I feel like I have to do the most. That I have to squeeze every last drop out of this godforsaken city otherwise I will have failed at traveling and don’t deserve the lucky life I’ve earned.

Because isn’t that what opportunity is? To make the most of every bit? Or is that just what we tell ourselves in a world where everything is filtered through the lens of the internet, where our activities are broadcast to the world on our social media channels. What will I post today if I don’t go for that run, have that spritz, see that show, try that restaurant? A cynical way to view it, perhaps, but one that I can’t stop thinking about on every trip. The memories firm in my mind; the joy found in the small, nothing, moments that live there, rather than on my feed. The best parts held in catching up with colleagues from around the world, belly laughs at a hotel bar with friends, the way the sunset catches the light of the unfriendly tin roof, the bitterness of an afternoon espresso. The sweaty, sticky, slow in between moments of nothing but being, head up, looking around, phone away.

below!! an image heavy post featuring…

• what i saw (spoiler: very few bras)

• a peek bts of my buying appointments

• what i wore for 100+ degree heat

• a few things i did

• other bits I’m shopping for right now

and don’t forget…you can shop this whole post here.