Paris in the (the) springtime

I’m recently back from a trip to France – my first visit to Continental Europe since the adventures and misadventures chronicled in Sicily, It’s Not Quite Tuscany. The main event was a week-long hike in the Dordogne and Lot valleys, but I managed to squeeze in a day in Paris, too.

And what a day! Before this, I’d only seen the French capital in the most merde of winter weather, with the top half of the Eiffel Tower shrouded in cloud. This time around, the world’s most famous landmark (okay, second to the Merlion here in Singapore) stood tall against an unsullied sky of royal blue. Pity about the four-hour queues to climb the thing, thanks to French Open crowds and one of the lifts being out of order. (No, I didn’t bother waiting.)

Photos below. (That was a joke about the Merlion.)


* The title of this post comes from this old-school optical illusion that I remember from my childhood, back when those things were vaguely cool. (Optical illusions, not childhoods.)


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