I arrived in Paris, France last night, as a stopover on my way to Le Fetes de Bayonne in the Basque Region. I met up with a few friends who took me around the Montmartre neighborhood for a traditional, rustic French dinner in a tiny, little spot where the menu is a small chalk board on the wall and everything is made in-house. I love food only as much as I love to dance, and sometimes when I eat something that is really delicious, I do both at the same time (I do a little happy dance in my seat as I'm savoring my plate). That is true satisfaction - eating a delicious meal with good friends in a tiny little brasserie in Paris. Afterwards, we took a nice walk to help digest our feast, and as the city was reaching its bedtime, everything was quiet, peaceful, and so surreal for me. The Eiffel Tower in the distance reached up from the 7th arrondissement while we took an adventure to see the beautiful mansions hidden in the 18th. A cafe that was closing up shop had postcards and letters pinned to every inch of the walls and the ceilings, and french music from an accordion could be heard in the distance. Paris is everything that everyone describes it to be -this romantic city, a picture straight out of a story book, whose organic streets and boulevards seem to have a life of their own.