Truly a movable feast as Hemingway put it,all be it a cold one. Paris in winter possesses a cold that penetrates any Cape Union Mart boots that you may have paid thousands for.

The Parisians of course don't feel a thing. They float around and grin at our shivering African bones.

Anyway, they are so busy kissing in public, it's no wonder they don't feel the cold.

I have never experienced such architectural beauty, and the images really don't do it any justice. I decided to just take my 50ml f1.4 lens, as it's light and versatile, but unfortunately it failed to capture many of the grand spaces and places.

The quirkiness of Montmartre is infectious, everyone looks like an artist or a writer and there are vintage shops everywhere.

Nothing can prepare you for the majesty and splendour of Versailles. My heart bleeds for Marie Antoinette, as I walk walk through her giant milkmaid playground, an imaginary world of the simplicity and normality she obviously craved...poetic irony. 

Cats and Magpies everywhere in the Cemetery give it a truly melancholic atmosphere. I see a beautiful young girl engraving a tombstone in the rain.

And lastly, my ultimate, standing in front of the sculpture of Cupid & Psyche, brought to life by Antonio Canova in the dim light of the Louvre. I could stand there for a lifetime.

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