I’ve lived in Paris for 4 years and have seen my fair share of spectacular views of the city - a few trips up the Eiffel Tower, countless jaunts to Sacré Coeur and visits to the top of the Centre Pompidou – yet none really compare to the vista I had the opportunity to experience last week.
An interior designer and Francophile twitter buddy of mine by the name of @fleurishing from my hometown of Philadelphia, was in Paris with her husband for their honeymoon. I met up with them for a coffee and chatted about the absurd and seemingly endless pension reform strikes, their plans for the week and all the traveling her husband does for work (240 flights in one year!) – in essence, a lovely 2 hour meet-up that ended with a plan to get together during my next trip to Philadelphia.
They were visibly hypnotized by the city’s mystical charm and I found myself wondering when the last time was that I felt genuinely dazzled by my surroundings. After the honeymoon period passes and you’re faced with the reality of what it really means to live in Paris, its initial aura fades.
Hours later back at home, ensconced in a wool throw and shivering due to a sudden surge of late November temperatures, I received an enthusiastic email from my new friends inviting me for a drink in their just-upgraded hotel room with an unbeatable view that I absolutely needed to see. Upgraded, huh?
Never one to pass up a glass of wine and a tour of a 5-star hotel, I was off to the Westin. As a local, it’s not everyday that I have the opportunity to view Paris from a tourist’s perspective (cue the starry eyes) let alone in luxury. With balconies overlooking the Tuileries Gardens, the Place de la Concorde and the Eiffel Tower, their cozy little apartment suite helped me rediscover Paris’ breathtaking beauty. Only thing missing? Sunny skies, a plate of aged Comté and a painfully crunchy baguette tradition. But I’ll take what I can get
For more photos, check out my flickr album.
All photos courtesy of Lindsey Tramuta for BitchBuzz.