I didn’t expect to love Paris, because it was exactly the thing you were expected to do. Your whole life you grow up with a sort of romanticized version of a place in your head. It’s an acceptable notion now having experienced it. They sky is blue. Paris is beautiful. I didn’t get as lost here as I wanted but I did accidentally drop a baguette on the grounds of the skeleton lined catacombs immediately sending my hair to stand straight up on my neck. I’ve never had more sumptuous food. And naturally I felt a great admiration for a city that identifies so closely with art. Alas.

These are all the things you would expect me to write.