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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