France is famous for its cuisine, its wines and cheeses, and there is no taste sensation like eating a crunchy fresh baguette with soft cheese, followed by wine. My dreams of this taking place dispersed into the ether when I was woken by the distinct pungent aroma of ‘off’ cheese. My camembert that I’d bought the previous day had gone bad, probably from all that time being out of the fridge while I was drinking wine and eating dinner at the neighbours’ after being locked out. Its far from delicate and pervasive scent filled my little flat overnight despite being wrapped in plastic in the tiny fridge. Even after wrapping it up twice more I could still feel its tang in the air. I decided to dispose of it later and its smell wafted into the hallway when I left the next morning for another day’s adventure, locking the door successfully. This time.

Another day visiting Paris icons, most of which I had not seen before, covering 16000 steps. The day was overcast but the rain held off for most of the day, but when it did later it showed off Paris in a softer mood. Paris is beautiful even in the rain!

Gare du Nord; Place de la Republique; Place de la Bastille; Panthéon; Notre Dame; Rive Gauche; Shakespeare and Company bookshop; tiny bookshops hidden in alleyways; and snapshots of typical French scenes. And of course, walking through Paris is walking through French history – in every façade or street corner.

I am reading French author Emile Zola’s For a Night of Love ; three short stories about love in one novel. It is startling to read overtly sexual kinkiness, sadism, attempts by the lovelorn to win over the object of their affections, tragedy, and the detailed life of the protagonists’ unfulfilled dreams written in the late 1800s. He writes with such detail that you believe he knew these characters or people like them. In fact he was the founder of the Naturalism movement of literary style relying on reportage and factual depictions of reality. Walking through some of Paris’ backstreets, I can visualise his characters living here, glimpsing them walking by me in moments of flashback to the Paris of the 1800s.

Indeed, many of the apartment buildings were constructed by Haussmann then and they have had to be adapted to modern life, with refurbished flats and garretts like mine needing indoor plumbing and the like. Therefore, Parisians not only live with their history each day, but also live within it.

But as well, there is modern Paris incorporating multiculturalism and a mélange of languages, tastes, sounds, smells, cuisines. The best example of this is a visit the next day to Goutte D’Or (drop of gold). It is an area two streets away from my place where an enormous market set up underneath the railway bridge – so that the clattering trains above us go by every few minutes and disrupt any exchange – epitomises the differing aspects of nationalities to be found here. After dipping my toes in the history yesterday, it is time to sample Paris’ ethnic diversity and food.

Hawkers call out their wares on offer amid a crush of people, many from ex French colonies in Africa who congregate in this suburb, as well as others from across the globe. It is fascinating and engrossing to amble through the crowd.

After two big days, I schedule a break day to chill. I love watching movies to relax, especially animated ones – yes, I am basically a kid. The movies? All have a Paris theme, including one of my faves, Ratatouille, which also happens to be about another one of my faves, French cuisine. I would love to be able to make some of the creations seen in the multitude of artisan patisseries around the city or mentioned in films and television shows and such.  What is it that the chef in Ratatouille keeps saying? “Anyone can cook.” Maybe, one day.