Before moving to dreamy holiday destination Spain, I’ve been holidaying in Brussels and Paris. My week in Brussels, delicious as ever, was filled with bike rides in the rain, movie nights somehow always involving Timothée Chalamet and dinner parties with dear friends. Still savouring that sweet taste left in my mouth and shivers of joy running down my spine when I think of Bruxelles, ma belle!
Then, there was Paris. A valentine’s weekend getaway with seven girlfriends in the city of romance, mais oui! It had been nearly four years since I frolicked around the streets of sunny Paris, so I decided to extend my stay with a few extra days. To start things off nice and slow, before it got loud and wild with a bunch of my favourite fiery women.
I didn’t do much more than gallivant with eyes and mouth wide open, mesmerised by the architectural beauty of the city, pausing often for coffee, croissants and scribbling in my notebook. I visited Patti’s favourite café and Colette’s forever resting place. I followed the sun and trees leading me to parks, live music and nightfall creating a buzz I’ve been missing for far too long. City life, who knew I would love it so much?
After three days of city tripping solo the girls arrived and the volume switch was automatically turned to the next level. Oooh, how I longed for this! Good food, wine, Parisian strolls with a crew of epic women. A cuppa afternoon tea turned into a dance party, walking from one place to another was accompanied by a speaker and eight loud women singing along happily. Making passersby smile with our voices and dance moves. Late night boogie in a tiny bar brought me back to a time way too long ago.
I missed this! The singing (yelling) along with every known song, the dancing with friends, the sweating all over the place, the tiny eyes the next morning, voice husky with happiness, body screaming for coffee, heart overflowing.