Counting down;

*from our trip to Paris last year, olympus trip 35

But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.

- Ernest Hemingway

less than 48 hours until the grand finale, and then our spring escape to the great city again. My heart is leaping with joy and full anticipation, and the imaginary suitcase is already filled with rolls of films, LBDs and books to read. But we will be there to get lost in les rues et boulevards, see Paris in its sunshine and mist, visit small shops and galleries and retreat into the night with an abundance of jazz and wine. As always my mind is overwhelmed, overwhelmed, in marche a petit pas.

And perhaps it may rain, but

I can always wear my trench coat, drenched in summer rain.