It was terribly romantic, a little bit tongue-in-cheek and disappointingly, not even mine. That’s right, I’m still 28 and never been kissed(*).
But while I was in Paris I heard the wonderful story of a couple who decided to travel to the romantic town of Paris just so they could French Kiss… I don’t know if they knew they could engage in this activity in their lounge room at home or that their tongues didn’t need a seperate passport for their travels. But it is Paris, so all is quickly forgiven…
Kissing abounds in the streets, and you almost expect someone to come up and remove the colour of the day to resemble those famous kissing Parisians of photographer Robert Doisneau. Which poses the question – where is the romance in Australia? Closer to the icebox by the sofa on Grand Final day perhaps? Your new challenge for the Aussies reading this email is to show a little public display of affection with the one you love within the next 24 hours and put Australia back on the Romance Circuit.
But more on Paris… Parisians love bread – and I mean LOVE bread. But faced with the choice of McDonald’s or endless baguettes, I always gave in to the yeast within. It’s just as well that Paris is a city to discover on foot. I think the balance between a whole lot of walking and a wholewheat salad baguette was well maintained by the Brazilianaire!
(*) by a pygmy with a bowel disorder… (My mother reads this too you know.)
Posted on August 24, 2005, in Brazilianaire Vol. 1 and tagged france, french, kiss, paris. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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