Paris has always been a place my parents hold near and dear. I’ve been before but I’ve never understood it. I still don’t. I mean I get it. They met there. They fell in love there. It makes sense for that to be their ‘one love.’ For me though, it’s just a bunch of quaint streets that have nothing to say. Paris has a story that my fingers don’t quite connect with.

This past summer my friend was finishing up his schooling in Paris. So I decided to make Paris my first stop on my European tour after Israel. When I made that decision I kept thinking to myself, am I going to be happy? Are my views on the city of love going to change? Or am I still going to be a cynic among a crowd of love birds?

I’d like to tell you all that after my five days in the city of twinkling lights (as I like to call it) that I’ve fallen in love with the city, but sadly that is not my tale. However I did learn some pretty interesting lessons like I have a secret love affair for blackcurrant macaroons with a hint of violet or how the city splits into two during the Tour de France. I learned that Black Lives Matter protests are surprisingly easy to run into and low key food photo shoots are a must. I found that my favorite place in the city to have breakfast is on the grass at Le Sacre Coeur and that Paris is filled with places to find incredibly fresh raspberries (my ‘one’ love). I may not have fallen in love with Paris, but I did find some pretty awesome nooks. Sometimes that’s all that matters in a city is finding your niche (and avoiding the awful bees that hang out underneath beds).

Paris may not be my ‘one love,’ but what’s yours?

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