Vinyl and Wine

I’ve always loved Paris. I don’t understand why people say it’s dirty and leave it at that. It’s been four years since I’ve last been here, almost to the day, and it’s every bit as disgusting and disgustingly beautiful as I remember. The city of love. A city of life. From the streets pumping with people to the alleys crawling with pigeons. Life is everywhere. 

Wine in front of the Eiffel tower with an incredibly talented, caring, and humble lover of vinyl that I met in Berlin. Too much Chinese food and even more wine with an architect and his boyfriend who were keeping me upright while I was stumbling around the streets of Montreal.

There really is something magical about this city. Even when you feel out of place and distinctly un-Parisian, you’re still feeling un-Parisian in Paris. 

But it’s just another city. Another dirty city. Another dirty city that I’ve fallen completely in love with.