I was 15 when I first went to Paris. It was a school trip, and I wore a brown beret with a miniskirt that barely covered my thighs. I felt the epitome of Parisian chic.
We spent the trip crossing off all the bucket list activities, which largely consisted of getting up as high as possible. Climbing the Eiffel Tower, taking in the view of the Parisian skyline from the Sacré-Coeur, a cruise on a bateau mouche to the soundtrack of Joe Dassin’s “Les Champs-Élysées”. I had no idea that there was an entire other city below my feet.
