It’s hot in Paris. And not hot in the I’ve-been-waiting-all-year-for-this kind of way, but rather an I-sweat-the- second-I-wake-up-until-the-second-I-step-into-the-shower-before-bed-at-which-point-I-sweat-again kind of way. You see the situation. The merciless sun covers the city in a blanket which is both suffocating and uncomfortable, no room to breathe. 

Save for super markets, banks, hospitals, museums and a handful of boutiques, the city is free of that progressive Yankee technology and rife with profuse sweaters (and subsequently body odor sufferers, inflicting their misfortune on the innocent bystander). As I sit here typing, the bubbles of sweat are forming on my brow, my hands feel sticky and my glasses continue to slip off my nose. 

It’s all anyone can talk about as they are concerned it will turn into another deathly heat wave. I strategically make pit stops between errands in air conditioned establishments too cool off and mentally prepare myself for the remainder of my blazing journey. Fans are more or less futile and air simply does not circulate.

The French don’t believe in air conditioning, it’s to be avoided and discouraged at all costs. Their reluctance to embrace a technology which is, admittedly, only necessary between the months of June and August, is an indication of their overall reticence about inherently Anglo-Saxon practices. My new gym (read my experiences at my previous gym here) doesn’t believe in air conditioning either, convinced it makes people sick. 

“That’s how people catch colds, you know. I don’t know of any other gym in other countries that use AC anyway.” 

“Ah bon?” (oh, really?), I asked.

I didn’t want to go into my whole “I’m American, this is how it works in America” spiel and embarrass him, but I was baffled by his comments. To be fair, I’m sure it has more to do with cost than anything else, but the city DOES get hot and people DO smell when stuffed into the metro or bus making the entire summer season a literal hot mess. So unless Sarkozy himself is living air-conditioned free in L’Elysée, some sort of solution would be greatly appreciated.

All that said, I can’t believe it’s already been two weeks since we’ve been back from Corsica. What I wouldn’t give to take a dip in the Mediterranean right now. At least I have these little snapshots to remind me. 

Tomorrow I’m off to participate in the Paris Treasure Hunt with my gal Anne of Prêt à Voyager and Sunday I will be one of the “celebrity” judges at the first-ever Cupcake Camp in Paris. I will report back with photos of the cupcake fest!