Parc de Bagatelle
The other day one of my dearest friends and I returned to the Parc de Bagatelle to celebrate our final day together in Paris for a little while. Far from our original plan but as the saying goes the best plans are made to be broken.. Or at least that’s what we kept chanting to ourselves to keep up morale whilst sat on a broken down train for five hours mid-way between Paris and Monet’s gardens. Forever the optimists, half a day later and one free SNCF lunch box heavier, we hopped back on a train to Paris determined not to loose a second more of our time together, and hired velibs to cycle back to the 16th. It was quite fitting in the end as this garden is our favourite place in the whole of Paris and over the years we’ve shared some lovely times here. We sat under the trees for a long time seeking out shade and enjoying the fresh evening air after being cooped up in a stuffy carriage for most of the day. After weaving our way through secret passageways and pagodas we tried to coerce the peacocks into spreading their feathers but this time they weren’t having any of it. On the way home we jumped back on our bikes and cycled through the Bois de Boulogne with the wind in our hair, giggling along and for a while I thought I was back in the woods at home rather than the outskirts of Paris.