Bird’s eye view over Paris

Notre Dame Paris

Notre Dame Paris

Notre Dame Paris

Notre Dame Paris

When we traded in our former life on a volcanic island for the rue’s, brasseries and boulangeries of France, much time passed in which I ached for what was left behind.  Dizzying heights of cliff tops that dropped into the ocean without warning, sunsets where I was convinced I could hear the sizzle  as the sun kissed the water on the horizon, the shortness of breath and the exertion of energy required to assume position to soak in the magical performance for which I held a season pass.

Acceptance that those days were gone and the new ones ahead were pages in a different book, meant adjustments.  I needed to find new cliffs; to be able to look out over the world and have my breath taken away.  I needed highs, something more than a café crème, or a tradition pas trop cuit

Whilst I can wander aimlessly through the streets of Paris and admire what pleasures are waiting to be found, the one I prefer best involves steps, usually lots of them, often hundreds.  It means a pause every now and again to stop, admire what lies before your eyes, while catching the breath that was blown away by not only the view, but those dozens of stairs spiraling upwards in a never ending swirl. And when you finally make it to the top, the view just takes your breath away.