The pleasure of a vacation comes in at least three parts: First is the anticipation. You makes lists, peruse websites, and weave fantasies about the place you’re visiting. Then comes the actual vacation. Finally — and perhaps this is the real meat of the pleasure — you fold the whole experience into stories you tell yourself and share with others, letting you live the good bits over and over, and allowing you to absorb the more puzzling parts.
I’ve only spent a meager three and a half days in Paris so far, but if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to get started on stage three — the telling — in bits and pieces:
- First, the smells. I was barely off the metro, baggage in hand, stumbling to the apartment where I’m staying, and boom! there it was: the aroma of caramelized sugar and butter…
