Starting My Love-Affair with Paris

My heart was pounding. I could feel every constriction and release.

We arrived in Paris jetlagged and exhausted having awoken 24-hours earlier. The hotel’s check-in was at 3pm: still six hours away.

After dropping our luggage at the front desk, we walked to the nearest cafe and consumed a requisite Nutella crepe for lunch. The flavour of a city is in its food. The remnants of the crepe sitting in my belly, however, weren’t enough to satiate my appetite for French cuisine. There was more to discover!

We explored the neighborhood.

I wasn’t searching for a macaron nor anything I had before. I needed something new. Something only Paris could provide.

We wandered down narrow streets, and through hidden arches, before stumbling into a painted white courtyard with a bakery, a patisserie, and a restaurant.

Passing through the other side stood a chocolate shop!

I opened the door: oh, the smell! Aroma of pure cacao filled my lungs and, for the first time, I felt my heart slowing down. The moment stretched on, sugar dusting the air, as my dry eyes glistened. The chillers filled with sorbes and ice creams granted respite from the hot August afternoon.

My fingers danced over tines of hot chocolate, shortbread, and jewel-like truffles locked in glass cases.

Picking out a small sachet of cacao-dusted almonds, I popped one in my mouth. A unique bitterness—with a hint of sweet—washed over my tastebuds. This was something new.

I was officially in Paris.