I fell in Paris...but not in love.

I wrote this just after my last trip to Paris in May 2011.  As I prepare for trip in March I begin to work out steadily.  Keep those bones in shape.  You never know when you might need one for a good bounce.

My last trip to Paris was May 2011.  The gods of lady tourists had smiled on me and I had a marvelous apartment with a view of the Eiffel Tower that was stunning.  Lucky for me, because I spent most afternoons propped in my recliner watching the tower.
 
I fell on these picturesque cobblestones.  Both ankles were twisted, shoulders bruised, head was oozing just a bit of blood and my "pretend I'm French" ego was shattered. 

Luckily I didn't break anything. There was no trip to a french emergency room trying to say "I have broken hip." My injuries weren't hospital worthy but they definitely required me to spend afternoons on the puffy recliner with my feet elevated. 

I chose to view this experience as just another voyage on what has become a life obsession with Paris.  I roamed in the morning and spent the afternoons happily watching the tower. 

There is a moral to this story.  Paris is the best place on earth. Get there, be in the moment, love every moment regardless of what it looks like and always wear clean socks.