Southern Living on the Rive Gauche @13-a baker’s dozen, Paris

It isn’t all rosy living overseas sometimes you get really fed up, not so much homesick, but just fed up and think what is all this B-S about. Those are the times when I want a good bitch – the kind of session that is chased by a couple bottles of wine and then drinks turns into dinner. That is when I miss London and friends. You can make new friends when you go overseas but it’s “your people” back home – the ones who saw you when life wasn’t glamorous (ha!), the long nights of crying over undesirable men, watching the same programme on tv whilst on the phone to each other and the exchange of looks that let you know you are both thinking the same thing – are the ones you crave the most.  Even the fantastic newer friends you make and meet can’t ever truly replace “your people”.  I was feeling particularly in need to some good old fashioned raise me up and I wanted to do it somewhere where they truly spoke my language – English. Tucked away on the Rive Gauche was  a place I had heard of brimming with Southern hospitality (I do love reading Southern Living and Garden and Gun magazines)  and a welcome to blast away the darkest of clouds hanging over one’s head. What is this paradise called I hear you say well 13-a baker’s dozen owned and run by Laurel! View Post

A bacalhau good time @Paris-Lisboa, Paris

Paris is the city of love, light and walkers.

To really see Paris you need to walk the streets and get lost, as I do often, being GPS challenged even with a blue flashing dot on the map I manage to often go in the wrong direction. You could take the metro and have the metro ticket rejected because it got demagnetised in your bag next to phone or have the pleasure – did I say pleasure – of someone push up against your backside, with not so much as an introduction, as they barrier hop. Yes, a very Parisian sport is fare dodging and riding the metro for free.  Then if that wasn’t enough there is the dank stench of perspiration so strong that the back of your throat itches. View Post

Solo Dining @ Le BAT, Paris

Just before I joined the exodus of Parisians leaving to head to the countryside for Easter, I decided I needed a last meal in a place that had a buzzing atmosphere.  If I’m honest Le BAT was not my first choice for a solo dining adventure that Wednesday night in actual fact I wanted to eat at the no-reservations Le Richer but it was rammed. Le Richer is the only Parisian restaurant I know that has stuck a list in the window of neighbourhood restaurants it recommends if you don’t feel like waiting 45 mins for a table. View Post