Memories of Paris

I spouted a grey hair in Paris. My first one. But I couldn’t have cared less, although I did stare at it for about five minutes wondering if it wasn’t perhaps one of my highlights gone very, very light from some of the French summer sun. A grey hair! And I had just turned 40! OH well there were more pressing issues to concern myself with at that moment – the most important being “What to wear, what to wear to learn to speak French?”!

I had met Fab, a young soldier, on the train ride from Paris to Geneva and had indicated that I would be spending a week on my own in Paris on my return and going to a language school to learn French.

“no.” he said. I looked at him. No what exactly? I asked. No belle dame, I will teach you.”

And so there I was five days later, alone in Paris a Friday night and looking at my small carry-on bag and wondering what a woman of 40 years of age wears to learn to speak French on a Friday night with a good looking 27 year old man.

Five outfits – the only ones i had with me — later, there I was with the one that I had started out trying on in the first place just as Fab was phoning to tell me he was downstairs. Four hours later that night and only four words into the language Fab decided to tell me that the best way to learn the mother tongue was actually to learn to French kiss first. Who was I, a 40 year old woman, with one grey hair sprouting from the front pieces of my hair to disagree?

And so as the Eiffel tower flashed in all her brilliance, I flung my head back and got lost in France.

DID YOU KNOW: The EIffel Tower has 200 000 light bulbs lighting it up.

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