After a “weather delay” in Chicago and a redirection through London (home of my future wife) I finally met my family in Paris on a beautiful Friday afternoon. They were eager to wine and dine me the moment I arrived.

That night I had the best meal of the week: cheese, baguette, and pastries. I thought I knew a little bit about cheese, baguette, and pastries before coming to France. This meal turned that all upside-down. It was a glorious experience, and my only complaint is that it will be impossible to recreate once I leave.

It’s apparent that the French have a tremendous appreciation for fresh food. Rather than picking up highly preserved groceries from the supermarket every week or two, shoppers pick up fresh groceries daily from shops scattered throughout each neighborhood. Any storefront could be on the cover of a gourmet food magazine. As a bonus, some fruit shops carry the tropical fruits I enjoyed in the Caribbean that are too obscure to find in American grocery stores.

My least favorite aspect of Paris is that everything is so small. I feel like Gulliver here — the cups are no bigger than shot glasses. I will say that I appreciate laughing at all the little scooters buzzing around the streets, though. Even a leather jacket can’t make a scooter driver look cool.

Time to start chipping away at the jet lag. We can see the top of the Eiffel Tower from our apartment, so I’m sure the hourly strobe lights will help me sleep. The museum marathon begins tomorrow…