In a nod to a healthy start in 2023 I attempted to take a pilates class at the gym, only to be thwarted by the granny mafia who sternly informed me there’d be no space for non regulars on their watch. With my willpower already stretched paper thin I didn’t think twice in abandoning my plan and called mum to meet me at the market, to at least make the most of being dressed and out of the house. She soon showed up, eyes glistening with tears, and announced she’d just been knocked to the ground by a cyclist who’d run a red light. Although he’d stopped to check she was ok his explanation that he “was going uphill in the rain so wasn’t looking at the traffic lights” left her quite cross in the specific way not being able to reply in a foreign language does. A chocolate croissant soon cheered her up before we padded cautiously home to hunker down for the rest of the day and admire her bruises. The moral of the story? Don’t go the gym.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to A Week in Paris to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.