The early afternoon sunshine is streaming through my wide-open window. There’s a gentle breeze carrying with it the chitter-chatter from the terrace down below. I’m curled up on my sun-kissed armchair, a book in one hand, and a glass of chilled rosé in the other. No children demanding snacks, my to-do list firmly cast to the back of my mind. This moment is my definition of perfection.
Seeking a respite from the everyday drizzle of London, we decided that only a weekend in Paris, ensconced in the sybaritic embrace of a Sweett Apartment, would lift us out of the doldrums. Thus, we crossed the Channel, lured by the siren call of café life and the promise of existential wellness, Parisian-style.
There is nothing quite like Paris in the spring/early summer and particularly the 6th and 7th arrondissements. These two marvellous “Quartiers" lie on the Left Bank and are famous for the numerous painters, writers, photographers, sculptors and philosophers who called them home. The perfect spot for a romantic weekend “a Deux”.
