800 kilometers later, and we finally drove into Paris and promptly parked at one of the most expensive car parks I have ever seen. I'm pretty sure that they would've accepted first born children as payment. Regardless, I wasn't about to let the steep price stop me from enjoying my holiday. Since Hef and I have already visited Paris several times (see one of my trips here), we decided to forgo the usual sights and spend our time exploring new neighborhoods and restaurants. By happy coincidence, my brother and a fellow friend were in the city as well. Nights were spent crawling up and coming wine bars, and toasting to youth, wanderlust, and well crafted meals. During the day, I fueled my recent obsession with architecture through my photography. Finally, when all was said and done, we collapsed on our apartment floor in laughter over a bowl of homemade guacamole. Because what can I say? It was the only way three Californian expats could battle homesickness beyond each other's company.