It's simple, really.
Your task is to be a flaneur. A stroller. A city wanderer. Yet so much more than that. You must be prepared to wander without a set goal, no clear destination. You must walk to feel the city beneath your feet, to observe and be observed.
It is a sweet treat to feel the streets of Paris under your feet, to taste the absence of no real direction. Your job as a visitor is to embrace the city one footstep at a time, to let the view of the Seine imprint itself in your memory, to feel the cool breeze on your skin, the taste of real croissants on your lips.
So in travel, so in life. It is an art to walk, to absorb, to resist the need to commit to a firm schedule. Perhaps you will encounter a cafe to sit and drink cafe au lait, perhaps a small little antique shop, or nothing at all. It is enough to stroll and learn the city through its people and the way the light falls upon the buildings at each hour of the day.
The French have it so right in this. There is divine pleasure in simply strolling, in wandering aimlessly--it is a practice in taking the time to enjoy everything about you.
That is the job of the flaneur.
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