gonewithawhim
Watching the world go by from the window at Flagrant Delice, Paris!
The universe conspires…
On my first Sunday in Paris, my plans and backup plans to castle-hop in the outskirts of Paris, visit a park, eat breakfast at Coutume Café, etc etc tanked one after the other and I was miserable. The thing about traveling solo is that the highs are really high and lows are really low. I didn’t have a friend to laugh off the day’s debacles or a book to bury my nose in (all bookshops were closed) or phone service to talk to anyone. I roamed around the Latin Quartier trying to find an empty restaurant, away from happy groups of friends. As I walked by this small restaurant in a narrow alley, the jolly owner waved a menu and ushered me in. I peered inside for signs of people and when I saw there was nobody, I ensconced myself in a seat next to the window and ordered the Popeye crêpe. The crêpe, which I later discovered was called called a “galette”, was absolument délicieux, It was warm, crispy, oozing with fresh cream and spinach, and had a nice fresh egg cracked over the top. For the first time in the day, I was thankful for the chain of events that brought me there. Merci Flagrant Delice! Read more in my blogpost
Watching the world go by from the window at Flagrant Delice, Paris!
The universe conspires…
On my first Sunday in Paris, my plans and backup plans to castle-hop in the outskirts of Paris, visit a park, eat breakfast at Coutume Café, etc etc tanked one after the other and I was miserable. The thing about traveling solo is that the highs are really high and lows are really low. I didn’t have a friend to laugh off the day’s debacles or a book to bury my nose in (all bookshops were closed) or phone service to talk to anyone. I roamed around the Latin Quartier trying to find an empty restaurant, away from happy groups of friends. As I walked by this small restaurant in a narrow alley, the jolly owner waved a menu and ushered me in. I peered inside for signs of people and when I saw there was nobody, I ensconced myself in a seat next to the window and ordered the Popeye crêpe. The crêpe, which I later discovered was called called a “galette”, was absolument délicieux, It was warm, crispy, oozing with fresh cream and spinach, and had a nice fresh egg cracked over the top. For the first time in the day, I was thankful for the chain of events that brought me there. Merci Flagrant Delice! Read more in my blogpost