I Need Paris. Stat.
OK. I realise that I'm posting this in my deeper Cuppa Thoughts category without a drop of philosophical pondering, but this is a tea emergency.
There are two kinds of two experiences ... what I call kitchen tea, and then ceremonial tea. It is the ceremonial tea where I so often get the space to process and meditate, but kitchen tea is just as important.
It's my twitch. Some people chew gum. Others bounce their knee. I drink tea.
Thus, I need copious amounts of kitchen tea to get me through a day. However, I've noticed with the COVID's cancellation of travel in the last 56 weeks (sure, we camped in places, but not exactly the tea shop in Midtown experience), that my tea quantity is lowering dramatically. In fact, the last tea purchased in person was 57 weeks ago in Seattle at one of my two favourite places in town on the way back from my Revelstoke skiing birthday trip.
Thank God I bought a pound of the best decaf Victorian Earl Grey from Perennial at the time. I didn't know why I felt the need to do so, but I'm nearly out.
But the ones I can't order ... the ones I have to physically visit, I miss those the most. Of course. And yes, those two places are in Paris. These are both in the 5th arrondissement ... the Latin Quarter. Now, there may be other places in Paris, or so I've heard. But it is the Latin Quarter that I know and love so well. I've stayed in various parts of Paris but once I discovered this Left Bank joy, I've never strayed. It is the home in my heart and I would totally be one of those elderly ladies who never left her 10 blocks if I lived there. Mostly because I don't leave my 10 blocks when I'm there.
In these precious 10 blocks resides Coffea on Boulevard Saint-Germain and au nom de la rose on Rue du Bac, only a block away. Both are Parisian chains. But those two shoppes are MY shoppes and none of the others exist in my tiny world.
So you see, I must get to Paris. It's an emergency.