A moveable feast

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Nothing compares to Paris. Nothing compares to its narrow streets and quaint corners. Nothing compares to evening strolls along the Seine and morning scoutings at Le musée d’Orsay. Nothing compares to Saint-Germain-des-Prés cafés  and Montmartre vineyards. Nothing compares to Claude Brasseur, Anna Karina and Sami Frey while running through the Louvre. Nothing compares to Canal Saint-Martin. Nothing compares to Amélie that skips stones at the locks of it. Nothing compares to that unique smell in the air. Nothing compares to the bouquinistes and jazz musicians. Nothing compares to Shakespeare and Co., Odette, Le Marais and Place des Vosges. Nothing compares to the city of light, the city of art. Nothing compares to Paris.

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