Seven years in Paris

Seven years ago this month, my wife and I had just moved to Paris as a pair of newlyweds — I’d found a job. Today I had an errand to run on the same street where that first Parisian office used to be.

We spent about a year and a half there. Enough time to build routines — the restaurant next door for lunch, the bar around the corner for after-work drinks with colleagues.

Going back felt strange in a good way. The street has changed — new lunch spots, new offices — but the vibe is the same. It just keeps renewing itself every few years.

What hit me more was thinking about the distance we’ve covered. From fresh-off-the-boat Parisians to actually feeling at home here. My wife and I, and now us as a family.

Same street. Different people walking it.