This posting is not about a real place I have been to, but a place I have been transported to in my imagination. It is Paris, 1928.
I have just finished reading this book by Elena Mauli Shapiro called 13 Rue Therese. I have heard about this book from a review on The New Yorker a few months ago and have had been intrigued.
What a wonderful journey she has taken me to. It is a fictionalized story of a real Parisian woman and her shoebox of memories. It is a life imagined from fragments of her mementos.
The character reminds me a little bit of Anais Nin -- a seemingly very proper woman who definitely has a penchant for the wild side.