I’m not 100% sure when it started, or how the thought even crept into my mind- but right now, I’m pretty much obsessed with Paris. So obsessed, that one night in dreary December, I spent a full 8 hours looking at short term let apartments and cheap flights, rather than getting my much needed shut eye.
But yet, I have never been.
(Well no, wait, I have in fact been to Disneyland Paris aged 8, but really that doesn’t exactly count)
Some may think it’s a romanticised ‘Disney-esqe’ dream, one where I’m expecting a Scouse boy to swing by and fly me off there for a first date, others that fear I believe I’ll arrive in the city of lust and return engaged to a flirtatious French man within 48 hours.
Yet it really isn’t like that at all. A year or so ago, maybe I could only see myself there with one person in particular, but now, I can almost only envisage myself there alone. As lonely and lost as that may sound. I see it more as a journey into independence (probably with a bit of Destiny’s Child Independent Women as the soundtrack…)
Aside from the romance, I assume part of me hopes I’ll somehow be as lucky as Owen Wilson in ‘Midnight In Paris’, by stumbling across a time machine and spend endless hours drinking with the Fitzgerald’s and listening to jazz in its purest form.
But, even for me, I know this is a little far-fetched…ok, maybe more than a little.
Then a fortnight or so ago, a friend innocently shared a Facebook status. A status I read whilst ordering my daily ‘Skinny Grande Chai Latte, Extra Hot’ which resulted in my mind racing towards the Euro Star and my stomach flipping with the overwhelming sense of fate playing its card.
The status featured a book, which launched a few days previously. A book written my women who made their dreams come true in a particular European city. Yeah, you guessed it- PARIS.
My Paris Story, is collection of real-life Parisian dream tales, written by 22 women. Why these 22 women? Well, they form part of a network of professional women living in Paris created by business and life coach Dawn Z Bournand. Now this is one group I aspire to join!
Reading a chapter or 2 each evening, before my worn out mind hits the pillow is exactly the tonic I need. Leading to nightly sweet dreams of sitting outside a famous Parisian cafe, drinking copious amounts of coffee, accompanied by sweet pastries whilst jotting each and every thought in my whirring mind onto paper.
With the hope that those written words become the start of a novel.
A novel that started in one special place. Paris.