Day 8: Nous sommes tous des dweebs.

How many cups of coffee can I have in one sitting? A lot. Add on the fact that it was a late morning and the coffee pot was full? A whole hell of a lot. I am addicted, but at least I am aware.

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Feeling the need for some purposefully relaxing time, a walk to les Jardins de Luxembourg was in order. Sitting down on the warm grass with a little magic blanket (you just have to see this blanket to know what I mean) to ease the sunbathing (thank you mom), people-watching and eavesdropping became the new favorite pastime. Oh how I love to observe. People are generally fascinating.

While this was all fun and games, the gardens were a destination for a reason. I needed to read! And read I did for several hours as the time flew by. 16h felt like 14h; the sun still is not the one I am used to.

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Walking an hour to a friend's to make up for the laziness of the day, the sun was gaining on us as the day progressed. Beating down harder and harder as the crowds of people became bigger and bigger. The trickle of sweat on my brow and body heat radiating off of those around started to feel vaguely overwhelming. Did anyone ever tell you your elbow is your best friend? No, well I am telling you now. Learn to USE it. The sea of people on Rue Vieille du Temple seemed as if it was convulsing on me, and I was only a poor little sardine.

Eventually arriving chez our fellow Harvardian's place, I was struck by how light his Air BnB was thanks to the multitude of windows doing a 360 in his place. I could see the Eiffel Tower, the Centre Pompidou, and the Tour Montparnasse from his windows.

The retro light blue seats and the minimalist architecture plus decorations created an air of comfort for the creative. I was in love.

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Next, we went shopping for food because of course we were going to cook on the 7h floor of an amazing apartment in Paris.

Dinner consisted of a brilliantly green minimalist salad with carrots, "long" tomatoes, and the biggest bell pepper I have ever seen. Seasoned with olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic powder, the freshness was something else. I mean it was so fresh that when I was cleaning the leaves, I found a little worm crawling around one of them. It came from the farm, man. Truly. Then a beautiful pot of sticky rice to go with our sans-recipe green coconut curry with onions, garlic, bell pepper, and eggplant. Wow. We are quite the chefs if I can say so myself. This would be nothing without a fresh baguette to top it all off, a baguette des près which was more on the "whole grain" side but tasted nothing like you would expect. It was warm in our hands when we got it so naturally we tore off the butt of one end and ate it with pleasure. Bread that doesn't need anything else with it is what I call REAL bread.

I felt it necessary to buy some French BUTTER. Now, this just cannot be explained in words. To die for. It was yellow and pure and my little slice of heaven (or should I say several).

Speaking in French, enjoying the evening light, the taste of delicious ingredients, and the presence of friends, it was the perfect Saturday night.

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Crêpes were the necessary next stop of the evening, each of us choosing differently and loving each and every bite. One beurre, sucre, et citron (butter, sugar, and lemon), one Nutella, and one miel (honey).

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Anna and I decided it would do us some good to take the over an hour walk home as the sun was still setting and night life was beginning to pop out.

We passed a restaurant called "Banana Café" for which it was necessary to take a photo of Anna by.

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Speaking in French all the way home I made a terrible joke, referred to it as "cheesy" and then re-evaluated the English word into the more accurate French version "fromag-i" which in retrospect is an insult to the French and my debut into Italian.