I’m living in a kind of post-Paris haze seeking refuge in my photographs, Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris”, even the cafe with the french name in Sandringham Road (give me a Bonjour please!). To say that I enjoyed my time there is true. I ran the Paris Marathon, my 15th and last (for now – but I’ll be doing some halves), saw some tourist stuff, and thoroughly enjoyed the city.  Saint Germain, Cafe de Flore (the movie, the song, now the lunch, fantastic), Hotel Costes (it’s not just the music).

It’s fitting to do the Marathon in Paris, this is not a city that does things by halves, except the cars which are mostly half the size of those we drive, the architecture, the clothes, beautiful people, the jardins, art and cafes. I asked myself when I returned:  why wasn’t I born there?

I’ve been really fortunate this year, Ireland first with my son and (now) daughter-in-law’s wedding. When they visited in Paris it was fantastic. Moments to last a lifetime.

Pining yes, but also complete.  Traveling has given a satisfying sense of completeness, the reasons why I’m still processing, but it’s positive. I’ve been sceptical in the past on the virtues of travel. Not now, it’s brought a sense of fulfilment and satisfaction.

Paris. Complete.