I’ve been meaning to write about Le Bichat for months now, but the problem is every time I go there I wolf down my food so fast that I barely have time to take a decent picture for a blog post. I literally forced myself to slow down and get the camera out this time to write this review for you. Continue Reading
Back in Paris and seriously in need of a detox, my charming American friend Emily invited me into the secret world of the Parisian girl downtime hotspot that is the hammam at the Grand Mosquée de Paris. This was my first sauna experience in years and I didn’t know quite what to expect from a steam room in Paris, where pretty much anything goes. Continue Reading
Behind the hustle and bustle of the Champs Elysées and facing the long queues of the Grand Palais is this peaceful little gem. I recently came across the Petit Palais while sheltering from the cold as I waited for a friend to attend an exhibition at its big brother, the Grand Palais, but there really isn’t anything petit about this gallery.
The main exhibition space is free entry to the public and the courtyard cafe is the perfect place to muse over a good book with a cup of coffee, or two… Continue Reading
I am not the most politically outspoken person, but the events of the past couple of weeks have left me feeling disorientated and anxious. For the first time I have been thinking twice about the efforts I made in settling into the city I so longed to be a part of for many years now.
I’ve been aching for vegan soul food since I left London. After trailing across various vegan cafés, restaurants and mass scale world food festivals while living in Amsterdam, I found very little to go on. Luckily for me fries were always on the menu. I just couldn’t quite understand why Veganism translated to raw food and hippy cafés, and I must say that I wasn’t expecting much else when I moved to the land of French fromage. Though notoriously known for being cheese obsessed carnivores, the Parisians are slowly jumping on the vegan bandwagon and being a nation of foodies, of course they’re going to do it well.
So, I sped past another milestone a few weeks ago. Yet another birthday in a foreign country without the comfort of having my best friends or family nearby and what better way to celebrate, thought my adorable colleague Hannah, than hanging out in a cat café? Paris, the loneliest city I know of, in which pretty much everyone owns a pet feline or two has gained itself the reputation of being the city of cat cafés. Made popular in Tokyo (another land of the lonesome-type place), cat cafés have become popular all over the world, with Paris boasting three in a single city. We went to Le Café des Chats in Le Marais for a cuppa tea and a cuddle.
I must admit that I haven’t felt as rooted to the ground here in France as I had been in The Netherlands. The unkept wildness and simplicity of Amsterdam has made a lasting effect on my being, leaving me longing for crisp sea air and close ties to the water. I especially miss the freedom and independence of cycling, but most of all it would have to be my awareness of the horizon and vast flat landscapes that gave me a sense of security. No such feelings exist for me in my new capital, except for when I do my weekly vegetable stock up at the Marché Biologique Raspail.
Montmartre really is a small village in its own right. Sometimes I barely notice I am still in Paris as I make my way up and down the cobbled streets of the mount, trying my best not to trip up as it’s a long way down… Continue Reading
I am now a fully fledged south of the river convert. The melting away of tourist crowds, open park spaces and cleanliness (to Parisian standards) of the 6th Arrondissement bring about a sense of peace and welcoming. There are just enough cosmetic boutiques, fancy shoe shops and boutiques de bijoux to leave a little space for daydreaming each time I walk down the grand boulevards. The bells of the Saint German de Pres and Saint Sulpice churches resonate against each other, as if in a full blown battle of the chimes, drowning out the sound of cars and passersby. Continue Reading
I will never grow tired of the little village atop the highest point of Paris. Montmartre comes to life at its best on sunny Sunday afternoons. Step out early enough to miss the crowds and grab yourself a seat at a café terrace, sip a coffee and take in the warmth of the sunshine. I love waking up early enough to hear the chiming of the Sacré Coeur and Église Saint-Jean church bells, vibrating against the walls of old buildings that line the narrow winding streets of the 18eme. Continue Reading