Paris Photo Joural, pt 2

The night before we left for Paris, my boyfriend watched Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations, Paris (the first one, not the second). In the espisode Mr. Bourdain says something along the lines of "If you want the best, freshest bread in Paris, you have to get up at the crack of dawn." My boyfriend, bless his heart, took it literally.

He woke me up at 3 am, our first morning in Paris with the delicately, oh so romantic uttering of "I want bread" 

I tried to tell him that no place would be open. I didn't care what Mr. Bourdain had said. It didn't matter. Out of bed we rolled, and into the streets we went. "Bonsoir" the men on the streets said. "SEE? These people haven't even gone to BED yet. They are still up from the day before. No bakery is open." And indeed, no bakery was. 

But getting to watch a city fall asleep, and then wake up again? Completely worth it. We watched teens hop the fences surrounding the Sacre Coeur, while early risers climbed the steps to attend mass.  Paris is full of harmonizing opposites that tug at the loose strings of your heart, and make it whole.

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