Falling in love.

As I glide through the streets, some people smile, others frown, I don’t care, I’m in the groove, a smile ear to ear. I enter the centre, designs, artwork and potentials, smash at my eyes. Window dressings urging me to enter, they're calling me in. I can’t refuse any longer, so I went shopping. Holiday blues, I think not! It will all waiting for me — A reason to come home. Here, a unique flair is easily achieved, so watch out Jayson, Princess Street is getting a serious face lift.

I started out a little slow today, after breakfast, crash! Emerging well rested though, I had simply ran of out juice. No amount of coffee would saved me, I was out cold. Breakfast — Orange Juice and Coffee + Eggs = Something Euro. A standard order at home, as it makes perfect sense, but here there’s no option, it’s a package. After breakfast, and chat with mum (about all things poetry) — Cafe Oz, a stones throw from the apartment, across the road from my haunt Indiana. Really am a creature of habit! And before you say it, I know, I know, there’s much more to see, and experience in Paris. I like to explore each little thing, in my own time, get to know the people. I am not time poor, yet.

So pretty, I want one!

As I enter Cafe Oz, I’m greeted by that familiar twang, a bloke named Justin from Darwin. Boags thanks, then five or so more and “we’re off to the races” — It was a good conversation, our topic, moving to Paris. Yup it has happened again, like clockwork, 3 days in and f**k it, just move here. Will I actually do this? One day perhaps!

The architecture, people and food is simply amazing. Once you learn a few simple phases, and apologise for not speaking french, it’s back to friendly smiles. It makes sense, if a bloke started yelling German at me in Melbourne, I’d probably hit him, especially one that looked like a bear. Why would here be any different? Anyways, this simple change, has made life that much easier here, a better outcome for all involved. I should learn french.

It’s hard not to notice the amount of people that say Hello or “Bonjour” rather. At home, I feel like we’re lucky to make eye contact, and if you do, judgement day! Here everyone says Bonjour, even when collecting the mail. As you pass the standard exchange of bonjour, bonjour, au revoir — happens every few minutes. It’s nice, really nice actually! Not being a hater, but we need to lift our friendly game. I’ve got this fellas! It’s “Hello” city when I get back. I can’t describe how beautiful it is here — the language is like a song. So how’s Paris ? — Amazing, I want to pack it in and live here — stop it Soren!

I’m now in second gear, and feel ready to do start the weird and eccentric sh*t. First job, convert the poetry I’ve written here into proper french, and learn how to express it. Next, attend Thursday’s creative writing group, then finally, tackle the stage at an open mic night. Now, I’m a confident bloke, but honestly, this scares the shit out of me - I love it! That reminds me, I need to get to the op shop first actually. Cribbes has suggested a black turtle neck and a red beret — good ideas mate! Got anymore? I’ll send a photo of my costume complete.

Finally, Dear Mr. Barnewall, Congrats on your first edition mate! It put a big smile on my face today, hearing that awesome news. I thought of the joy you both must feel, what a great way to start the year! — Well done mate, Legend! Regards, Soren. — Now Back to Cafe Oz, I’m told Friday nights go off! Peace.

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