I dashed off to Paris for the weekend and had a fabulous time. The end.

….oh, you just wish that was how it’s gonna go down!

It’s the 10th of June 2010, quarter to four in the morning, and I’m sitting in the living room packing my Pierre Cardin suitcase for what is sure to be a memorable trip…oh yes folks, I went to Paris. Alone. On the 5am train, taking the underground to St. Pancras, seeking out the Eurostar. AMAZING. I was umming and ahhing over whether to go, and then my mum said something indescribably wise that really struck me (“these are the moments you work for”) and from then on, my mind was set.

I’ll share a few of my favourite photographs with you…

I arrived at the hotel around 1.30pm on Thursday…I was shattered, so I immediately flopped onto the bed and slept for two and a half hours. After waking, I got changed and took the Metro (genius in transport form) to the Eiffel Tower, and after enjoying an ice cold coke (original, ‘cos Diet is for bitches who don’t know any better) I walked alongside the Seine until the Louvre found me; I then caught the Metro and went back to the hotel to write. I didn’t take my camera out with me Thursday evening, so there aren’t any shots of le Tour Eiffel…but c’mon now, we’ve seen it a thousand times before.

On Friday morning I dressed, felt truly happy to be alive, and walked to the Seine…it took about 45 minutes, and the sun was radiant and brilliant, so I didn’t mind at all. I then walked alongside the river once again and ended up at the Ile de la Cité…and headed straight for Notre Dame. Words and pictures can’t do such a beautiful place justice, so promise me that you’ll see it for yourself one day. The bricks and gargoyles whisper of history, whilst the stained glass faces look on and on and on and on, anon.

I left Our Lady after an hour or so and made for the Metro once more…on the way I was accosted by an overly-enthusiastic Frenchman who couldn’t speak English to save his life…I’m rusty and struggled with my French…but we managed a conversation by ways of merging our mush of words into Frenglish, or as he called it, Franglais. After various confused compliments which are still out there somewhere, hopelessly lost in translation (“You have a face! Uh, I mean…theatre? You do theatre?”) he asked me out for drinks but I informed him that I have in fact seen the film Taken, and so won’t be going anywhere with strange men in Paris for the forseeable future. He didn’t understand. Bless.

I crossed the city and went to the Pere Lachaise Cimitiere to visit Oscar Wilde…as always, sir, it was an honour to meet you. I love that graveyard (what an odd thing to say). It’s very peaceful and easy to walk through…if you skirt the groups of bored school children and beleagured American tourists, it’s a nice way to spend a few hours.

The rest of the day was spent in Starbucks wandering through the Louvre, another incredible place that no pictures could properly capture. I did my best…

I love Paris. That’s where I want to be. I bought a postcard of Notre Dame and wrote “work for it” on the back. I will, I promise. If you want to see the rest of the photos from my Parisian adventure, click the big ol’ link below:

PARIS 2010: PHOTOLOG

I came back to England to find SOGGY SHITTY WEATHER that copies of Fight the Sky have appeared at Waterstone’s Birmingham New Street – exciting! Now to actually sell one…and die happy. Marley’s also been keeping informed about the promo video’s progression and oh lord, it’s gonna be good!

“This is the dream what we are living, after all.”

…did I really just quote my own poem? Fuck yeahhhhh.

Whoever, however, wherever you are, and whoever you might want to be: smile, and have a fantastic day. I’m sure you deserve it.