The smells.

I typically hate blogs that try too hard and think they are super insightful and I know that this entry is going to be a bit cheesy. But today as I was walking around in the rain, lately it has been hot, humid and wet, I smelt in the air something that reminded me of my trip to Mexico with my grandparents and mother several years ago. I was walking to the gym into the 15th arrondissement (Paris is divided into 20 neighborhoods with different post codes that are number in a spiral with the first starting in the center forming a snail shape) which is different from typical Paris, the buildings are all from different decades and centuries and very poorly put together. Anyways, walking around with the smell of petricore mixed with wet buildings and people was reminiscent of the wet hills of Michoacan. It was an odd feeling of misplacement. It was not the usual cigarette/wine/fresh herbs smell that usually permeates throughout Paris. On the way back the feeling changed, it was like listening to your iPod without playing any music, like being trapped inside your own head but without thinking anything in particular.

Maybe I feel like my time in Paris is ending. Maybe the weather is getting me down. Who knows?

If you think this entry was just an excuse to use the word petricore I applaud you. That is not the case but you get points and you know why.

That was super uppity and I apologize to anyone who has continued reading through the end.