Ahh..Paris. Even if it's in a maggie.

Gargoyles. Argh. I bought National Geographic Traveler tonight as an escape from the dreary Winter. I saw the feature on Paris on the cover, and I was eager to read all of tips on lodging, museums, and most importantly, the food. As I flipped the pages, there was an image taken from the top of Notre Dame cathedral with the gargoyles in the foreground, overlooking the Seine. It was the same image I saw just over a month ago. As I squinted at the picture, I could see the rugby/soccer shop where Jesse bought his jersey. The bright yellow canopy brightly set the shop apart from the river walls. I closed my eyes, and I was there, the cold, brisk wind blowing in my face, the gleaming mid-Winter sun drenching the observation desk.

Even as a I sat on the green line train engrossed in the article, reading each listing to see if I had visited it last month, I felt as if I was in Paris, just taking the Metro line 4 back to Boulevard du Raspail. So ready to reutrn...