Tunnel Love

I love Paris. I love the romance it evokes; from the crumbling croissant to a lazy stroll along the Champs Elysees. Mon amour de Paris turns me into a bohemian poet.

The Parisian spirit engulfs you as soon as you step on the cobbled street in Montmartre where our apartment is. It is a small space, yet with every amenity that you need not peep outside your front door for the entire weekend break. A small kitchen unit is cleverly hidden in the wall, a sunken bed that inclines so you can watch the large plasma and a wonderful circular bath hidden behind a frosted screen. The dark silver walls and wooden floor, crisp white bed linen and fresh roses completely seduces any English reserve that may have been lingering.

Down our enchanting street and a few twists and turns later we find the home of the best baguette in Paris in Jean Pierre Cohier's boulangerie that beguiles us both into a two hour espresso and pastry. Another turn and Madonna's favourite restaurant rests idle until the sun sets and the night life spills the street in a whirl of colourful verbosity.

The Champs Elysees is bustling with busy Parisians and tourists alike and hums with the noise of gossip and traffic. We wind our way through the throngs to the magnificent Arc de Triomphe which stands in the centre of the Place Charles de Gaulle. Commissioned in 1806 after the victory at Austerlitz by Emperor Napoleon we celebrate our own small triumph of climbing the 284 steps to the top of the arc. The panoramic view across the City is breathtaking and the 1,063 foot high Eiffel Tower dominates with iron magnificence.

Our feet are sore from all the walking and we dodge the traffic to a quaint back alley for a croque monsieur and a carafe of red wine. People bustle past the window and we gaze out at the mime artist on his break, sat down on the floor with a paper and a cigarette. You can't help but feel quintessentially Parisian.

With the award winning baguette under my arm we meander back to the sanctuary of our apartment.