Just Went Out To Get Milk...

...and that's why I've been absent from the land of Blog for so long. Shall we catch up quickly? My trip to Morocco ended with a trip to the hair salon and a trip to the aesthetician in preparation for the visit to Paris. The hairstylist came highly recommended. I think that he might have been fairly good but after the first hello and the choosing of a colour not my own, he was seldom to be seen. The young man who actually did my hair was nice but indeed, the end result was something that Jeff in Vancouver had to fix anyway. Note to self, think of all non-Vancouver excursions to undergo beauty treatments as an adventure...which leads me to the visit to the aesthetician. ( I did start with one aesthetician). Again, the spa came highly recommended. A sparkling, modern establishment where I was escorted to my treatment room. Well, perhaps this story is best told over a martini with some best friends. Let us just say that by the end of my appointment, I was in a small room with, by now, three lovely Moroccan woman who were scrutinizing me and alternately smiling and laughing. It was a very long appointment. Happily, once released from the scientific study portion of the day, I was turned over to the capable and gracious hands of a women who cosseted me through the hamman and gommage treatment. (Steamed and scrubbed with black soap and then massaged-very recommendable.) She even took out my hair tie and rinsed my hair. I was sitting on a spa treatment bed at the time and I think was transported back to all those childhood baths in the kitchen sink. Oh come on, we all have those photos! My return to Paris was bittersweet as I had to leave the opera filled mornings in the house and the wonderful culinary explorations and my daily routine of friendly faces coupled with an avocado smoothie or two. I jumped in with two feet though upon my return to Paris. Two red soled feet....