There are few places in the world that conjure up notions of beauty and romance the way Paris does. I suspect that Casablanca would not pull at our heartstrings in just the same way if Rick and Ilsa had met in Cincinnati (not that I have anything against Cincinnati).

Paris has the ability to inspire in us, as few cities do, endless oohs and aahs.

It is a city I return to again and again and never tire of. The expansive sky, the Seine, the quintessential cafés, the small streets and grand boulevards, the small shops dedicated to cheese and other gastronomic pleasures, the language, and the people continue to enthrall me.

Inevitably I have seen changes over the years, as in my own hometown, that displease me. Commercial chains are moving in making it harder for independent businesses to survive and modern nondescript buildings are replacing the old. But the charm remains and some changes are welcome.  Bicycles, as in New York, have become an increasingly part of the daily transportation and paths specifically designed for them make it even more ideal still.

This week I will do what I love most. I will visit those who are dear to me, wander through museums, stroll about the city, get on the above stated two-wheels, sit at cafés, glimpse often at the sky, and revel as my senses are delighted by a city I hold dear.