French capital break
Draining the last of my kir cocktail, I glance at my watch. Two full hours have passed since I took my outdoor seat at a cafe on Boulevard Saint-Michel, and yet it feels like only moments. I’ve watched elegantly dressed commuters come and go, seen couples saunter hand-in-hand towards Notre-Dame. I’ve nursed a coffee, then a cocktail, and dipped in and out of my book. The sun has moved across the sky and now that the workday is done, clinking wine glasses echo from tables around me. I wave the waiter over and order another drink. Who needs to be dashing around the Louvre or ticking off the Eiffel Tower when I have all of Paris on show right here?
