Whenever fall rolls around and the scent of hot garbage juice is replaced by cigarette smoke and dried leaves, I am reminded of Paris.
New York, for whatever reason, feels similar. It's dirty like Paris is, and the people are just as brusque and stylish. That same chill is there, too, and it always takes me back to when I studied abroad.
I had never let the cold stop me from wandering around and exploring. If anything, it was better then because the tourists were gone and I could stop for chocolat chaud whenever I lost feeling in my fingers. I can't help but get a little nostalgic. And what better way to relive memories than by sharing pictures? Paris in November:
It still has that strange, perfectly filtered light. But it's cold and grey. I loved it everyday.
The ceiling at Galleries Lafayette
The Palais Royal métro stop is decorated year-round
The Opéra Garnier
The Gare du Nord train station, back in my neighborhood
And, lest I forget, I can always look back and notice that in November 2007, I still wasn't getting my laundry done. Some things never change.