I love Paris. Unabashedly. Went with work friends to rip up the town and it was great fun to take Robert who hadn't been in almost 10 years, and had never been on the Eurostar. We stayed in a lovely boutique hotel in the 8th arrondissement. Robert bought a suit for his sister's wedding and I managed to muddle through with my elementary French.







It was a glorious Spring weekend -- sun and warmth and clear blue skies. We had dinner at the Georges on top of the Pompidou and learnt that "le tigre qui pleure" despite sounding like tiger meat, was acutally oxtail. Is oxtail really ox? We didn't know. Robert and I hit the bars in the Marais where he was quite the flirt, apparently. You can see more of the pictures here.