Taking a boat trip along the Seine, rounding the Île Saint Louis we spotted two hearts and, in huge writing, the words ‘ho voglia di te’.
The next day I walked around the lower walls to find it. It took a while because I got to the tip of the island and then went back to tell Vicki that it wasn’t there, went around the other side and there it was, about ten yards from the tip but out of sight of where I’d turned around…
I had no idea what the text meant, but it was clearly romantic and beautiful and intended either for somebody passing on a boat or somebody with extremely poor eyesight. Googling it upon my return I discover that it means ‘I Want You’ in Italian. A sexy phrase if ever there was one. If I’d known it when I was young, sad and single I feel sure I’d have used it.
I’d never been to Paris in the Autumn before, and I spent every day singing ‘I Love Paris’ either in my head or out loud. I’ve always loved the song, even when I didn’t love the city, and now when I sing it I think about my loves, one wife, two children and a dog, and how lucky I am, I’m a lucky, lucky man.
Every time I look down on this timeless town
whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
more and more do I realize:
I love Paris in the springtime.
I love Paris in the fall.
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles.
I love Paris every moment,
every moment of the year.
I love Paris, why, oh why do I love Paris?
Because my love is near.
Cole Porter. Genius.
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