at the top

August 20, 2015

Today marks 6 years since I moved to Paris. How time flies while living la vie Parisienne! It’s not all croissants and strolls on the Seine as one might believe, life in the city of lights does have it’s challenging moments, but I’ll save that for another post. Really, I can’t complain. I am surrounded by love in the form of an Italian and dear friends, and each day holds with it limitless inspiration, it’s just a matter of finding it. This time I found it at the top.

I’ve wanted to ride La Grande Roue, Paris’ Ferris Wheel, for years. Imagine the views!

Recently, while a friend was visiting and I was playing tour guide, I grabbed the chance.

Up, up, up we climbed… from four floor buildings to vistas overlooking Paris.

I felt like a child, my eyes wide with amazement as I took in the sights from both sides.

I could have spent all afternoon at the top, with a perfect view of Sacré-Cœur Basilica.

But alas, our time was up and we returned to views from below. Not so bad either.

bridge of love

August 14, 2015

I’m certainly an advocate of expressing love in it’s many forms, both privately and publicly, but when it starts to weigh heavily (in this case literally) even I, a diehard romantic become disenchanted. This is the case with Paris’ much loved bridge, also a symbol of love.

In 2008, tourists from around the world began attaching ‘love locks’ to the Pont de Arts. By engraving their initials & throwing the key into the Seine, their love was forever locked.

In February 2014, well over 700,000 locks were estimated to be attached to the bridge.

There was much concern about the possible damage caused by the weight of the locks. In June of 2014, that fear was justified when part of the parapet on the bridge collapsed.

In August 2014, the Paris Mayor’s Office began to encourage “selfiies” in place of love locks, with their campaign “Love Without Locks”. “Our bridges can no longer withstand your gestures of love. Set them free by declaring your love with #lovewithoutlocks.” Even a No Love Locks campaign was started by two concerned women who call Paris home.

Over 50% of the panels on the Pont des Arts had to be boarded over with plywood.

On September 18, 2014, much to tourists dismay, the City Hall of Paris replaced three panels with glass as they searched for a suitable replacement which could hold no locks.

Starting on June 2015, the locks were removed, with Health and Safety officials stating “the romantic gestures cause long term Heritage degradation and danger to visitors”.

As of 2015, over a million locks weighing around 45 tons were attached to the bridge.

These days, Pont des Arts has become less about locks and more about art. Artists Jace, El Seed, Brusk & Pantonio have been commission to decorate the bridge with their work.

As I walked the length of the bridge and around it, I admired the graffiti artwork and the stories being told, knowing that this will in time be replaced by padlock-proof glass panels.

Love continues to reign in padlock form as tourists attach their locks to the sturdier sides.

I couldn’t help but think that true love should be set free, rather than locked. Yes, I know it’s only symbolic. But there are many less damaging ways to express our sentiments.

What are your thoughts about love and locks and this new look of Pont des Arts?

adventures in Essaouira

August 9, 2015

On July 29th I celebrated my birthday. In true leo fashion, I toasted grandly with friends in Paris. Meanwhile, my Italian, forever the romantic, planned another surprise getaway. The last three were in Italy, but this one, he hinted, was to foreign landscapes I had often dreamt of. I arrived to the airport unaware of where I would be spending the next four days. Tears of joy collected in my eyes as I saw the boarding sign: Essaouira, Morocco! In just over three hours we landed and soon after arrived to gorgeous views from our riad.

That evening I experienced my first Moroccan sunset. I was already enamored.

The following day we explored the Medina of this mid-eighteenth century fortified city.

I learned that the prominent blue covering many of the doors and windows were remnants from a Jewish past, and also the symbolic color of a port city.

I was interested in learning about the local products of the artisans, and even met a few.

The port of Essaouira, known for it’s myriad of blue boats and hundreds of local fisherman, was the most important trading port between Europe, Africa and the Americas from it’s foundation in 1770 until the first half of the nineteenth century.

Having first ridden a camel in the desserts of Rajasthan during my travels in India, I thought what better way to discover the Moroccan landscape, with it’s miles of sandy beaches.

With the winds in full force, we boarded these gentle dromedary and began our tour.

Our guide stopped to show us the ruins of an ancient Sultan palace from the 18th century.

We continued until we reached the town of Diabat, where Jimi Hendrix’ legacy lives on.

The last day I experienced a local hammam, and we spent the afternoon in the Medina, a place I had grown to love for it’s vibrancy. Many tagines later, it was time to return to Paris.

But not before one last sunset, ending a magical adventure in Morocco.

Portovenere and the poets

July 24, 2015

In my dozens of trips to Cinque Terre, I had never visited the town of Portovenere, until now. We boarded the tourist boat, filled with anticipatory visitors from around the world. For that afternoon, I became one of them. In just under an hour we arrived to a breathtaking sight. The Church of St Peter originates from the 5th century, both Gothic and Christian, with most recent additions in the 13th century, marked by black & white stripes. As our boat turned into the port of this tiny peninsula, a row of vibrant colors greeted us.

These houses were built by the Genovese Republic as a fortress to protect from invaders.

Portovenere, part of the Gulf of the Poets, is where the likes of Lord Byron (whose name was given to a now collapsed sea cave Grotta dell’Arpaia), George Sand and Alfred de Musset spent lengthy periods of time, writing, dreaming, swimming…

It was here too, where Percy B. Shelley drowned in a storm and his memory lives on.

It was a summer afternoon steeped in history, and eagerly we returned to life on the sea.

life on the sea

July 17, 2015

Ever since my first visit to what I then called ‘paradise found’ during my year of travels, I fell in love with Monterosso al Mare. Little did I know that I would meet a man from this very land and come to call it my home. Recently we spent nearly two weeks living on the sea. Blissfully. Days began with yoga beneath a kiwi canopy and visits to the bakery for cappuccino and a fresh cannoli, followed by picking capers in the garden, or lemons in the grove (that task was left to my Italian). A family lunch followed a siesta beneath the shade of a beach umbrella. Evenings spent with friends. Every night I fell asleep to the lullaby of the sea, some nights it bellowed to us, other nights it whispered. I rose to the church bells.

As I wrote five years ago during my third visit, I have come more deeply to cherish this land where nature reigns and life is valued in the most basic and beautiful of ways.

How important it is to slow down and appreciate the art of living.

Until we meet again… and life on the sea continues.

discovering Dijon

June 30, 2015

Not long ago I was invited to join Rendez-vous en France, the official site for France Tourism, as a select few traveled the country to create their new campaign Fall For France. Considering there were several regions of France I hadn’t yet explored, I eagerly accepted the adventure and boarded the train with Rail Europe. In under two hours I arrived to Dijon.

Dijon being the capital of the Burgundy region, naturally day one was spent wine tasting.

Bourgogne being my top choice in wine, I discovered new reds and even a few whites.

Being in the expert hands of the Dijon Tourism Office, our next stop was a special one.

The Clos de Vougeot vineyard was created by Cistercian monks of Cîteaux Abbey in 1336. This medieval wine farm was highly recognized for centuries. The Château de Clos de Vougeot, sitting regally within the stone wall, was added in 1551.

Since 1945, it is the seat of the Order for the Confrérie des Chevaliers du Tastevin.

Wine is no longer produced, but this historic Château holds many stories within it’s walls.

It was now time to enjoy the city, and why not from the 46m high La Tour Philippe de Bon?

The sunlit views were stunning, and I was eager to explore by foot down below.

I spent countless hours walking, looking up, admiring the architecture, the historic details.

I discovered a new love for a city and it’s neighboring landscapes. With local products in hand, including a few bottles of Bourgogne, Dijon mustard (I couldn’t leave without a tasting), and gingerbread (another specialty), I vowed to return when the vines are filled with leaves. Maybe even with a certain someone. There is much more to see… and taste.

My next adventure is taking me to Italy…feel free to follow along on Instagram + Facebook!

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