In 2012, suddenly and unexpectantly I found myself taking refuge in Paris. I had fallen in love and so my emotion at that time billowed out of a little one-bedroom on rue Adrien Damalix in the eccentric commune of Charenton, on the fringes of Paris proper. Those emotions billowed out of the bedroom on the corner flat, located just above a tabac, a block away from the Bois de Vincennes and suffused my experience of the city. Which was just like being in love; that sense of wonder and discovery, the new sensations and scents and despite the halting, nervous conversations, so hopeful and excited, the oddest feeling of comfort -and yes- safety.
I say all this