I don't want to say I stopped in Paris for the weekend on my way back from Johannesburg just to eat an Henri Quatre sandwich at Paul's. Except I kind of did. We all know that's exactly what I kind of did.
So imagine this: I didn't see or buy or eat a single Henri Quatre while I was in Paris. Not one. Not in the 48 hours I was there. Not in any of the seven (yes, seven...) Paul's bakeries I stopped by. And trust me, I checked. I'm taking this personally. Seriously personally.
« Airports are my friend | Main | Seeing what I didn't know »
Nov 26, 2008
Verify your Comment
Previewing your Comment
This is only a preview. Your comment has not yet been posted.
Your comment could not be posted. Error type:
Your comment has been posted. Post another comment
As a final step before posting your comment, enter the letters and numbers you see in the image below. This prevents automated programs from posting comments.
Having trouble reading this image? View an alternate.
Recent Posts
Recent Comments
Hello...
- I'm a copywriter, now freelance. Since leaving Chicago, I ping-pong between Sydney, Taipei and a bunch of other places.
This is my travel blog:
The Jaded Tourist
Comments