In no particular order…

Saw my friends get married, which was amazing.

A few late nights, dancing, photographing, wandering. Missed an entire day—Friday—due to events on Thursday, and nearly missed Sunday as well. Saw Japanese urban treehouses, met French skaters and game designers. Hunted down Space Invader art all over Paris. Stumbled upon the epic Paris pride parade, each successive float louder and more over the top than the last.

Salsa danced and made serious karaoke. Got epically drunk. Laughed and danced in the streets of St. Germain. Saw a dozen identical cabaret dancers with their 24 identical nipples at the Crazy Horse. Took a commuter train from Invalides to St. Germain. Saw drunk and happy footie fans yelling in the streets. Lost my sunglasses but managed to hold onto my camera.

Speaking of which, 50mm f/1.4 is built for karaoke. Truth.

Saw impressionist paintings, met annoying Canadians. Gave advice to the 20 year old courted by persistent 18 year old French boys. Attempted to rent bicycles. Met French students on their way to SF and LA. Ate unbelievably good food. Smoked way too many French cigarettes. Polished off pints, Remy, and bottles of champagne. Felt the opposite of guilty noming on foie gras. Still impressed by the sheer unending beauty of this city and the people.

Going to brekkie in the Luxembourg gardens and afterward wander around the outdoor book vendors in the shadow of crazy church restorations. Tomorrow’s my last day in France, and I’m flipping a coin between Versailles, Chartres and Fontainebleau.