“The night before had quickly, and without invitation, morphed into the morning after; and throwing twenties at the barman for two European-sized bottles of Heineken in an all-night bar along the River Seine that was a mash up of Fibbers and Bruxelles was becoming less appealing as the weak winter Parisian sun chased the night through Boulevards and side streets. Leaving, I waded through the flea markets near Bastille weaving my way through the early rising selfie taking couples and back to my temporary abode. Paris needs no introduction. …” Pog Mo Goal
