…is Paris.

Last week I jetted over to Paris for a one day meeting and zipped about the 16th Arrondissement of Trocadero and Iéna, taking in as many museums, buildings, and attractions as my sleep-deprived eyes could ingest.

Truly boggled by the sheer beauty of the architecture, the plethora of museums, and the bonhomie of the people, I think Paris comes a very, very close second to Athens, another city that took my breath away on first site.

How a city can hold such sway over one’s perceptions is never easily explained. I fell in love with Amman’s rougher parts far more easily than with the grand mansions and even Petra; I have never fallen in love with London, no matter how much I snap and view the angles and history.

Paris, however, caught me off guard. Although its beauty is renowned, I did not expect a city to be quite so photogenic. Had time allowed me to view beyond the 16th my camera would have doubtless exploded from the persistent snapping.

Hailed as the city of great romance, it was relatively devoid of fawning lovers sighing with unbridled joy, and proved a joyous trip - even for a cynical old spinster like myself.

Arresting, stunning, and luscious, Paris is a city never to be missed, whether you favour the contemporary or the historical, the romantic or the practical.

Indeed, it is a city for all seasons and all sentiments.