Location: Paris, France

Today, I am in Paris, and it is the first day it has snowed in perhaps, oh, maybe forever. Coupled with a subway strike, it is virtually impossible to go anywhere, unless it is à pied. The Vélib bikes are out of the question, because the roads are super slushy, and a car might run me over, because no one can drive in the snow here. And the taxi companies will not even take reservations; it is first come, first serve. (I might have to just walk to the airport tomorrow morning. haha.) We had to stalk a taxi today, in order for my colleague to catch his flight back to London. That being said, there was something rather magical about walking from The Arc D' Triomphe, back to my hotel this evening as night time fell. The snow was falling very loudly, and I was walking rather slowly, not fully certain of exactly where I was headed. A thick crust of snowflakes collected on my scarf, and I realized that I really had no place to be, at any certain time. And I only wished that I was carrying a little box of Pierre Hermé macarons to eat later on in the evening, but nothing can be 100% perfect.