Hygiene first.

This crepe stand near the Eiffel Tower has its priorities in order. Chocolate and properly attired staff. And, no, I am not referring to the polar fleece.

No way to greet the Canadian Hygiene Hunter.

Just after midnight along Avenue Montaigne in Paris I spy a white plastic bag lying in the doorway of the Canadian Embassy. Littering is not the Canadian way:(

Other people's leftovers.

This is why I dislike room service.

A common Parisian sight.

I also enjoy this smell.

Cheese should smell like cheese. Gym bags, on the other hand, should never smell like cheese. In a little side street on the Left Bank in Paris I discovered this most adorable little cheese shop. With the most amazing goat cheese I have ever savoured. Top honours also go to their cheesecake. And to the Cheese Man. If only I could remember the name of the shop. At the very least I know how to get there.

This smell I enjoy.

The George V is renowned for their fabulous and weekly floral creations. Hyacinths signal spring. Hell for people with allergies though.

Oh George V.

It's little details like this that make me love you even more.

The ever thoughtful George V.

After being presented with a stool to perch on, my handbag is insisting we move to Paris. To this hotel. I could be persuaded.

An almost poop free park.

In this park, just beyond the Eiffel Tower, pigeons do the dirty work of chiens.

Not a buttery croissant.

Soap on a stick at Cafe de Flore. Hale the Handy Wipe. Aesthetics aside, this would be just fine as a personal bar in your own potty room.

Refuge at the George V.

Welcome to hell.

If you are going to visit the Eiffel Tower I suggest you cease liquid consumption 2 hours prior.

This way to hell.

Dear Paul

Don't fear for his life. This duck has a safe house in the Jardin du Luxembourg.

Dislike.

Like.

Like.

Dislike.

Like.

The culprit.

All in a day's work.

The present.

Aaah! Paris in February. Oh how the owners of such adorable four-legged creatures love to mess with us. Ladies, check your Louboutin's. Gentlemen, your loafers. Or better yet, keep your head down while walking to avoid spreading the joy.

Something fresh before something heinous.

Be forewarned. One of tomorrow's photographs will conjure up quite a different smell from this one. The flowers at David's on the Left Bank in Paris all smelled like flowers should. Bee-U-ti-FUL. And the flowers last for days.

A remedy for Jet Lag.

One glass of champagne, a cup of tea and "What may I ask is that comforting smell?" Diluted bleach. The George V Paris does make one feel right at home. Merci.

An intruder.

The George V Paris is perfection personified. The staff. The weekly floral extravaganza in the lobby. The decor. The cleanliness. The attention to detail. My guess is this teeny-weeny interloper hid in the closet while housekeeping conducted their final room inspection prior to my check in. Then it flew onto the ceiling to observe my inspection. The bug is smaller than a grain of quinoa. Yes, I am that good.