But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight – Ernest Hemingway.
Oh Paris. City of lights, City of love … we all have a Paris in our hearts – whether it be a moment, a story, a dream or a lifetime romance.
Three of our customers have shared with us a memory of love in this beautiful city. We share these little vignettes with you, to give you a sense of joie de vivre, and a smile to your heart and to evoke the romance that this beautiful city emanates, without choice or effort but simply because it is Paris.
Katie’s story: The Proposal
“It was such a romantic night. We did the tour first of the Eiffel Tower and it was very windy, so when we were seated in Jules Verne restaurant, I was fussing with my hair as my partner had called over the photographer. Well, I got the surprise of my life when on bended knee he held out a little ring box and asked me to marry him.
“Through tears of happiness I said yes and the waiter announced to the entire restaurant that I said ‘YES’ or ‘OUI’. After our romantic dinner, we walked down the stairs and watched the Eiffel Tower light up for the night. I don’t know what was shining brighter, the tower or my smile. Oh it was such a beautiful night and a great start to our week in Paris … a life time of love.”
Donald’s story: Dancing barefoot
“You wrote so engagingly about visiting France Kim, that you helped us decide to spend a week in Paris for our 43rd anniversary. Paris and the Parisians are as wonderful as you described them, and we enjoyed touring the city so much we barely spent any time buying souvenirs for our family. Much better toward the end of a busy day to dance barefoot on our balcony than to put our shoes back on and go hunting for stuff to send home.”
Shelly’s story: Until we meet again
“I saw him in the little bar in Paris in the 3rd arrondissement. I was with a friend and we were talking to a group of Spanish girls who spoke English well. The night grew on and we were all enjoying ourselves when a tall, handsome French man walked beside me and introduced himself as part of the group. We discovered a few similarities. I guess that was enough; the attraction was there. His accent was soft, as were his eyes. We began talking into the night, and upon being asked to leave the bar as it closed, we bade farewell. We kissed as the French do, cheek to cheek, but it lingered, just a little. We swapped emails and later the next day we met in a church in Il St Louis. We walked and talked, and he told me his story. I told him mine. We continued to meet, in bars, and with friends. He’d ride his bike or walk with his cane to rendezvous in Le Marais and Montparnass and around Il St Louis. We continued to meet day after day until one day his eyes grew softer, and glassy with tears, and then faded as in the heavy rain I made my way to Charles de Gaulle Airport. Years on, and we met again, as friends, with the same smile and attraction, in the same bar … to continue our conversation, and to walk and enjoy the romance that Paris evokes, until our eyes grew soft, and teary again. C’est la vie.”
Do you have a love story to share of Paris?