The grand thing about being in a city as old as Paris, rather than as young as Toronto, is that there are the sites, but then there are the little beauties that you just wander past.
The little moments, the little unknown things on a side street that aren’t in the guidebooks. I do wish that the love of art and workmanship was still around. That we looked to leave things for future generations rather than built condos that are meant to last only two decades. But I digress.