The streets are narrow and winding.
The hills are treacherous in places.
The neighbourhood has a collective pulse, and the crowd moves together like a heartbeat.
Merchants heckle unsuspecting tourists.
Enticing smells permeate the air; crepes, éclairs, lattes, wine.
Everything and anything is at the fingertips of those who will pay to indulge.
The ghosts of the past haunt famous buildings.
The Olympic Theatre, the Moulin Rouge.
Beggars, prostitutes, artists, and musicians all arrived in a quest for self-discovery.
My quest is the same, and here, amongst the winding, curving streets, I will discover myself.