Ahhh… Bonjour mon amies. My French is Le Tragique (Okay, I’ll stop)
I absolutely love France, particularly Nice and Paris – (I have only been to Nice and Paris…but it sounded good). Four of us went to Paris for champagne and larks over the weekend and it was so, so good.
I was particularly cautious with the weekend as it was a Pre-holiday holiday before we spend 2 weeks in Bali… I just needed to make sure I didn’t have to accidentally lose someones plane ticket. But it worked!! They have passed.
I shouldn’t really call it a day as we got to our AirBnB at 11pm. We took the Eurostar from London to Paris and I think it took just over an hour and half. On arrival my breasts were heckled at by some of the locals outside the station. Eugh- can we not!! I don’t know why that is a thing.. what woman has let this be a successful come on that it is the go to for street boys to try… however, I was in Paris and as I sauntered to my Uber, I realised nothing could bring down my mood. I should also add I drank 4 glasses of prosecco on the train.
The flat and host were so lovely, I was doing the ridiculous gurning thing and just looking like a crackhead because I was holding in the ‘I LOVE YOU! I LOVE PARIS! I LOVE ALL THE THINGS’.. So I just… stared at her with smiles and sort of stroked her arm creepily every so often. However when my bff decided to say ‘Petite pois’ for like thank you or something I knew it was time to wrap it up and get ready for the get down.
We managed to find a cocktail bar. The Experimental Cocktail Club.
I. Was. Wasted. The drinks were so good.. I found it ridiculous how hot everyone was, the girls were beautiful, the waiter looked like he could be my new ex-boyfriend. He was giving me French stripper we-should-get-married-and-have-ethnic-babies realness. To be fair, so was the DJ, and the barman, and some of the patrons… my eyes are slutty..they want all the French men.
Anyway, It was so laid back… maybe, too laid back?
Walking back in from the toilets and I got caught in-between this awkward dancing trio, one female and two males.. the female decided to swipe her tongue across my boob.. (it actually glistened under the lights of shame) whilst I was getting frantically humped by Francois if you imagine pouring salt on to a snail, you can imagine how quickly my nether regions dried. Though I guess ménage à trois was coined in France. Long story short we stumbled home after failing to convince everyone to let me eat street pancakes and died around 4 am.
DEATH. Death has taken my soul and left me with the fumes of alcohol to run my body on. I woke up to perkiness. I don’t understand.. like happiness, and mirth perkiness. Hangover Cass says ‘Kill us.. kill us till its okay’
After the dramatics, we had a mediocre brunch and went out shopping in Sephora. I canNOT explain how essential Sephora is to my life when I find it. There isn’t one in London and apart from all the pushy sales people dressed as Harley Quinn it’s a make-up lovers bliss. Massive Haul but I won’t bore with the details.
The best part of the afternoon was Ladurée. It was just so quintessential Paris.. in my opinion, I can’t believe it was my first time there. Pics below I could wax lyrical about it all day.
After I eat, I’m ready to wrap up all shenanigans and sleep, we didn’t have much time before we had to head out for a surprise we had planned my other bff.
I had gams, boobs, smiles out for a night out Le Crazy Horse – Can we say Beyonce?
Sexy but classy, funny but skilled, it was so so good. . I was just sitting there with my bottle of champagne like ‘Why am I not a burlesque dancer? Why don’t I have rhythm? …or abs? .. or resistance to food?’…It’s like watching the Olympics all over again! I’m a victim!
Highlight of the trip!!
Our big talks of going out to see museums, walking in parks, visiting the outskirts came to a screeching halt when we realised we had no energy and we’re old people in decaying bodies.
So we sat and plates of chips and drank Prosecco. Obviously.
Au Revoir Paris.