The Champs Elysées smells like evergreens, roasted chestnuts, and sweet Belgian waffles. Lining the grand avenue, there is a series of little white wooden booths selling winter treats; from French specialities such as saucisson sec to an expected array of wonderful cheeses. There are stalls with stacked Russian dolls, scented candles, Moroccan leather bags, chocolates, sculpted marzipan figurines and plenty Paris memorabilia making an appearance. One stall offered rather expensive portraits with a real French Santa Claus, and every evening that same Santa performed an act where he flew through the evening sky with his reindeer.
Yes, even though it is on one of the most ritziest real estate locations in the world, the Champs Elysées has turned itself a bit hoaky, but there is something realistically comforting watching Parisians embrace cheesiness. I hope I’m not sounding like a pessimist because I really love it. I love the giant ferris wheel set up at the end of the jardin des tuileries, and watching children attempt to eat an overwhelming amount cotton candy, half the size of them. I love warming my hands with a to-go cup of hot chocolate, and I love that there is always a jingling sound amongst the crowd. It’s slight and settle, but it lingers as a reminder that it’s Christmas.
Bisous,
Reba
Bisous,
Reba
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