Excuse My French but I’m in Fraaaaance

One of my best friends and I have had many adventures together, be it in London or her native homeland of Sweden, but never have we been on totally foreign soil together.

On discovering we both had a free weekend and were craving a good dose of laughter, we decided we needed a night out.  So on Saturday morning I hopped onto the Eurostar and M a flight. Paris was our destination of choice. What’s not to love about Paris (bar the French and lets face it is it any wonder us Brits don’t like them – it just comes down to jealousy as they have everything – sun, sea, ski, mountains, beaches, fashion, art, culture, food, wine and so the list continues…)

We both arrived at lunch time, dropped our bags at the hotel and went to meet an old colleague  for food and a good glass of wine. I love how in Paris come rain or shine there is outside seating. Even on the narrowest of pavements, outside the smallest of cafes they’ll be seats for you to sit and watch the world go by. There’s nothing more Parisian.

After lunch we wandered around the beautiful city chatting away and taking in all the sights.  I’m quite a softie at heart but I’ve never really understood the romance behind this whole “love lock” nonsense at Pont Neuf. I know the padlocks are meant to symbolise unbreakable love and that sweethearts used to attach them to bridges to show they couldn’t be separated despite distance but really? In this day and age? Buy us jewellery you cheap vandals.

As we meandered through the side roads we suddenly heard a lot of commotion with what sounded like girls crying and cheering. Being as nosey as we are we couldn’t resist going to see what all the noise was about. And there he was. Justin Bieber hanging out of his hotel window doing an impromptu little achapella gig with just his guitarist in tow. Now I’m not a huge fan of the Biebs (nor was the guy in the flat opposite him from the looks of it) but I have to say he did have a great voice and it was highly amusing to see Bieber Fever in full swing.


That night having scrubbed ourselves up we headed to dinner at the uber-trendy (and slightly overrated) Hotel Costes.

When I’m in France I like to eat as much French food as humanly possible, so I started with the escargots. I should probably confess that I don’t order snails because I am particularly fond of the actual snail as such, to be honest I just see them as a vehicle for all the delicious garlic butter they are cooked in. If I could bathe in garlic butter I probably would, however M is a little more normal and instead ordered pate. Just look at all that garlicy naughtiness tough! Ohhh la la.


We sat outside in the courtyard underneath the warm Parisian sky and chatted for hours about all manner of things as we made our way through our meal and several bottles of wine and cocktails. Hotel Costes is the perfect Parisian puddle for people watching, you see all kinds here.

After a night of dancing and laughter, with many a drink consumed we woke up a little groggy  and in need of croissants so off we set in search for the local boulangerie. It was a gloriously sunny day so we canned our plan to go to the YSL exhibition as couldn’t face the idea of being cooped up with a load of tourists (also I’m not exactly the most cultured of people…) so instead we spent our day just walking and talking our way around the streets, taking in Parisian life.

As the evening started to draw close, it was time for M and I to head out seperate ways. We’d packed in so many chats and laughter in just a little over 24 hours that I felt like I’d had a real holiday, so as the sun began to set we headed our separate ways once again until the next time.

Au Revoir Paris!

Sophie x

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