As I mentioned in my previous post, one of my most treasured inspirations is my love for travel. I caught the travel bug when I was 18, on the brink of adulthood, and the 5 months I was blessed to spend across the pond was barely enough to satiate it. It’s been years now since I engrossed myself in the life of a ravaged, backpack-ridden train-hopper and I’m itching to lose myself in unknown streets again. Sigh. Soon enough. Until then, losing myself in lovely photographs of places beyond my reach must curb my appetite. Which leads me to reveal one of my greatest travel obsessions, Paris. When the land of the Eiffel and I first met, I found her to be…. expensive. Cold. Dreary. Don’t get me wrong, I was awestruck at the greatness of the city, but it didn’t help that I was a kid meandering the cobblestones with my entire wardrobe on my back and without two francs to rub together. In years since, however, I have come to love the heart of France from afar. It’s rich culinary history (since discovered in school) did something to help that. As did all those splendid photos which relentlessly circulate the web. Bientot!