The nervous tummy of excitement

When you first fell in love and had to be away from your adored for a day, days, weeks - and you were going to be seeing them in eight hours, do you remember the little knot of excitement that gradually built up in the days preceeding your reunion? That is me today because I am off to Paris in a few hours.

I've dusted off my Mulberry bag, not seen out of the cupboard for years, the Rocket Dogs have been abandoned for Roberto Cavalli boots* (also covered with dust despite being in a wardrobe) and my favourite gloves have come out of their box (black calf with a scarlet lining and cuff). I am going to the capital 1.7kg lighter than last week (3.75lbs) and my m-i-l is kindly doggy sitting. All this makes me feel a bit like a nervy teenager. I know it's silly but I've just got out of the city mode, despite a few trips to London and Paris over the time we've been here. Today just feels different.

The photo above is of my favourite thing in the whole of Paris (although there is much that almost rivals it in my mind). It is of the fountain in the Place de la Concorde and I have a similar shot (but without the people and the buildings and including the other fountain with the woman figures as well) as a huge framed poster in our hall. I can walk round this fountain for a long long time and never get fed up seeing it - just click on the photo to see a magnified version of OTT brilliance that to me symbolises Paris - the most beautiful city which I have ever seen. It far surpasses my home town of London, which has become cluttered with ugly buildings in the centre. Paris is open with its huge boulevards and avenues and - despite the odd modern monstrosity - has kept its C18/19 charm intact.


*Oh no they haven't - my feet must have spread because after two hours of wearing pointy black leather boots with heels my toes are hurting. Rocket Dogs back on now and at least they are colourful and comfortable.