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A Cure for Homesickness
Homesickness hits me without warning. We are walking along Rue de l’ Assomption in Paris, on our way back to the Maison d’Accueil de l’Assomption where we’ll be staying for the next three days. Already it is seven in the evening, yet it is as bright as 10AM. The thought of going back to an empty room suddenly suffocates me: creaky floors, empty hallways, cold walls. Without my husband. Without my dogs. The nothingness is all too much. Where are we eating dinner? I ask Ernestine. We have been companions from day one, supporting each other in this little adventure. We have been each other’s shoulder to lean on for…
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Footnote: Street Art in Paris
The gifted cinematographer and my friend Lee Briones Meilly first spotted this spray-painted piece of street art while we were walking around the 5th arrondissement of Paris. The pink image tickled our imagination. Was someone killed on this spot? Who is Anna Cappelli? Was she a murderer? Later, I found out that Anna Cappelli is actually a play and that it was staged in Paris around the time we were there. So this was actually an advert. How clever! [wpgmza id=”1″]
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Budget Accommodation in Paris: Maison d’Accueil de l’Assomption
If you’re looking for budget accommodation in Paris, consider staying with nuns! 🙂 I highly recommend the Maison d’Accueil de l’Assomption, the Motherhouse of the Assumption Sisters. This was where we checked in when we were in Paris a few months back. The hostel is actually a retreat house operated by the Assumption Sisters, a Catholic religious order founded in 1839 in France by St. Marie Eugenie of Jesus. But it’s also open to the public. Room rates include breakfast consisting of a selection of hot beverages (coffee, tea, milk), fresh juice, bread with butter and jam, cereal, and fruits. The rooms are quite comfy. Here’s mine: A…
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Paris Dyptich
#1 | Italian The first thing we eat is Italian food. Fancy that! First lunch in Paris and here we are, going over an Italian menu written in French. How did Ernestine and I end up in an Italian restaurant anyway? I feel a little guilty for being too lazy to explore the neighborhood to look for a proper French restaurant. Across, a church. The bell tolls, announcing the end of Mass. It’s Sunday! People come pouring out looking famished. It doesn’t take long before the tiny Italian restaurant starts filling up with the faithful. The waiter smiles at us with eyebrows raised. Hurry up, he says without…
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Footnote: Ville de Paris
a Filipina's take on travelling the world
