Paris

I've always been in love with Paris. It's such a magical and enchanting city, or at least it's that way in my head, that I've often wanted to pack my bags and leave. I regret not going some years ago when I had the chance through college. Fortunately, my lovely wife has also a deep affection for the City of Light. Our dream is to go soon, and perhaps, one day live there for a while. Who knows?

Right now, I'm learning French. Through Podcast and books, I'm teaching myself French. So far so good. Of course, I'm only in the very beginning of my self-taught studies. I can greet you, ask how you are doing, and wish you a good day. Oh, I can also ask where you're from. It's a bit tricky, since the Podcast is completely separate from the lessons found in the book, so while I may know how to pronounce and ask certain things, I don't know how to spell them yet. Yet, being the key word.

I don't know why I love Paris so much. I think it has to do a lot because I'm a writer, because I have the soul of a poet, because I'm a romantic at the core. Recently, my wife and I discovered a lovely café in the middle of Coral Gables. We plan on going there once and a week. As I learn more French and feel more confident, I shall practice with the owners Torres Loïc et Dorothée, mes amis.

For now, in this random and personal blog, I may muse about my travels to this little part of France in the heart of Coral Gables.

Au revoir!

A Moveable Feast

There are certain books that you read that forever stay with you. No matter how much time passes, you can always quote certain parts and the mere thought of reading it again brings pleasure. For me, one of those books is A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway.

Perhaps I like it so much because it's about a writer in Paris. It's a short memoir written by Hemingway about his time in this magical city. Isn't that the dream of every writer? To live in Paris, to talk about poetry and politics in a café, to walk the ancient streets with  joei de vivre, to fall in love with the City of Lights?

That's the dream of this writer. Maybe that's why I love the ending of this book so much.

“There was never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed… Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.”