Tout seule!

Bonjour! I'm finally in Paris. I'm typing this on my iPhone, which means it might be full of weird spaces and typos. More annoyingly, if I swear, the phone will disapprovingly change it to 'ducking' or 'shot'.

I'm currently listening to awful French radio in my hotel room, but let's not judge the trip by that. The hotel is totally gorgeous, the eurostar was very exciting and I'm meeting three old friends in a couple of hours.

It's weird (though exhilarating) to be here on my own. The first time I came to Paris was eight years ago. It was an 18th birthday present from my first proper boyfriend. We broke up soon after. All I remember from the trip is being surprised by how ducking huge the Eiffel Tower was.

I came again when I was 20 with Sandeep and Suzy, who were my university flatmates at the time. We stayed in a grim hotel in the red light district. The blankets on our beds were actually old curtains. There were suspect stains all over the carpet. Very quaint.

And now here I am 6 years later, staying somewhere cheapish but nice, and not in the last awkward throes of a doomed relationship, which is all good. But I am on my own, which is different. I'm quite capable of looking after myself and finding my way round, but I did feel a bit anxious trying to work out the ducking confusing Metro system. Going out tonight will be brilliant, but would be less scary if I were ten and my parents could just work out all the details. Being a grown-up is exhausting.

I'm going to wind this up now because I'm talking a load of shot. What a stupid aunt I am. A bientôt, blog. Many bisous.