We'll always have Paris: The story so far...

The story so far in Paris:

DAY 1: Christina arrives in Paris and tries out her French. In the process, she creates her own language.

In the evening, she and friend Simonne brave the rain and go out to a bar in the Marais area where the trendy arts crowd likes to hang out. While she has developed a taste for whiskey (thanks to Glasgow), she is no match for vino. Halfway through the third bottle of wine she shares with Simonne, Christina staggers out to an alleyway to puke her guts out. She feels like death and passes out when back at the apartment.

Christina is a happy drunk and a cheap date.

DAY 2: Christina treks out to the 6th arrondisement where she discovers the massive Sales throughout the city. This makes Christina very happy (she cannot say the same for her credit card). She takes touristy pictures by Notre Dame, makes her way along St Michel Boulevard and ends up at Jardin du Luxembourg. Despite the crap weather, there's still loads of people out (and not just the stupid tourists): reading their newspapers in the gardens (with their umbrellas up), old men playing chess and poker in the park and kids sailing their miniature boats in the middle of the pools.

Christina then meets her friend at Shakespeare & Co. The place is like a church for the avid reader. There's a spirituality and reverence about the place. Books line the walls, literally from wall to ceiling. A piano on the bottom floor invites one to play. Christina falls in love with the place (also in part because it's featured in one of her favourite films Before Sunset with Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke).

In the evening Christina, Simonne and Nico (the boyfriend) go to a Vietnamese Restaurant back in the Bastille area where, once again, vegetarianism is about as common as midget elephants in the city. Christina thinks the waiter is good looking, but he's definitely batting for the other side. Later, when he is clearing our table the waiter accidentally spills vinaigrette all over Christina's head which means she smells like sauce for the rest of the night.

On the plus side, they didn't charge for that dish.

DAY 3: Christina takes a hike today... all the way up St. Rivoli to Musee du Louvre for cheesy tourist photos. The sun is coming out intermittently. No rain. There is a God. St. Honore and Haussman Boulevard provide diversions. Viva la mid-year-sales! Christina has died and gone to heaven so many times in the last few days her middle name should be Jesus.

In the evening, she catches up with Simonne and new friends Jade and Helene at Le Brebant on Blvd Poissonniere where the staff have serious attitude problems. They were obviously unloved children growing up. When happy hour arrives, everyone (except the waiters) gets happy. 5 Euro cocktails - hello! Thankfully, Christina acknowledges her limits and there is no barfing in gutters at the end of this evening.

DAY 4: Christina counts 11.5 good-looking men today. Three of them were slightly better than average (but far more attractive than the lot she sees back in Australia) so they score half a point each. And they're not all gay.

Today, Christina visits the Opera House and lugs around a big-ass bag after she buys a big-ass briefcase at Galeries Lafayette. How she wishes she had a lackey to carry her crap around for her. She also has the worst crepe in the world today in Jardin des Tuileries that is served by one of the rudest crepe makers in the history of ... well, Paris. In fact, it was no crepe. It was just crap. It was more like a flacid pancake.

Even the miserable weather cannot keep the children away from the funfair. A lone boy rides the carousel, looking somewhat forlorn and lonely. He gazes longingly over to the spinning wheel - a far less sedate ride - full of people screaming in excitement. When the ride stops, the boy joins his parents. The rain is still falling. A man with a black umbrella stands beneath the shelter of the carousel waiting for someone.

Christina falls in love today. She goes to the Champs Elysees and visits the flagship Louis Vuitton. On the second floor, that's when it happens. She is browsing the shelves when she looks across the room.

There she sees... the high heels. Of course they're expensive. Of course they don't go with anything in her wardrobe. And of course, she can't walk in them (she just about stacks it on the carpet when she tries them on). But like a Loreal advertisement, "You're worth it" (or something like that).

There's a tax refund of about 12% for anyone living outside of the EU (one of the few perks of living in the ass-end of the world), and Christina gets excited by the prospect of swishing around one of those cute little brown bags Louis Vuitton gives you when you spend your life savings on a handbag. The fact that there is a frenzy of buying before close of store at 8pm (it's those Japanese and Italians) also sucks one right in.

440 Euros later, Christina walks out a very happy person (her credit card, on the other hand, is experiencing chronic depression).

Christina meets up with her friend and a whole bunch of the friend's friends at Cafe Lea just off Rue Claude Bernard. Whatever healthy diet she had before coming on holidays goes out the window. Dinner is bread and dips, with Baileys and Irish coffee. There is no such thing as a carb-free diet in this city. The shoes are admired and psychoanalysed. The bow is girley, but the stiletto heel and studs apparently scream latent dominatrix. Hey - Christina just thought they were cute... (and above is Nico admiring the shoes - he would have acquired an appreciation for fine footwear since his girlfriend is a flaneuse)

Tomorrow, the festivities for Bastille Day get on the way. The Champs Elysees is already primed for the Saturday march (think old men in uniforms and a lot of buzz cuts) and the red, white and blue line the boulevard. Let's get patriotic! Tomorrow is also when the annual 'Firemen's Ball' takes place all over the city. All the fire stations open up for big parties, and from what I've been told it really should be renamed 'Firemen's Balls'. Bring on the hedonism! There should be enough Kodak moments at that event to write home about.

Christina will now stop referring to herself in the third person.