5•30
Bonjour.

Ah, I 'ave needed to seek my journal. It is tourist season 'ere in France. The Americans have decided to come over and visit.

Not that I mind, it is just very busy.

Sometimes it can be a bit overwhelming with these tourists running left and right, complaining they cannot 'understand my accent.' I do not mind, it is amusing to me. I love seeing new people take on deep love and passions for cultures that are not of their own. It reminds me sometimes, there are other cultures that can love like we Parisians.

My favorite part is watching new love spring from the heart of France. New lovers meeting at a café, intwining fingers, soft kisses, men who fall to one knee to open their future to their lover.

Watching this all gives me such a warm feeling and new outlook on love.

•chuckles softly• I suppose that is why they call me the country of love, non?

Je devrais apporter l'Angleterre ici. Je pourrais lui apprendre comment aimer. Il est perdu sans amour. Peut-être... Il trouvera son amour.

Au revoir, mon ami.
-Francis Bonnefoy