the whirring of the metro— it’s a three-part whir, a low first, a second squeal, a long, satisfying whir as it gets going. i’d forgotten how you can feel the hot wind being pushed through the tunnel before the train shows up. i’d forgotten how flat paris is; how untall everything is. i’d forgotten how much a breakfast of baguettes and croissants leaves me hungrier than when i sat down … but how tasty it is. and the butter? and the milk in my tea? how could i have forgotten how good those are? and cuisse de canard confit. holy shit. that meal alone made my trip. i’d forgotten vittel water from the metro vending machines, next to twix bars that are slightly cool from the machine. and i’d totally forgotten panache (it’s half beer half lemon soda. sounds gross but it’s great!).
i’m taking notes. :)