Sometimes in my travels, I forget to take pictures, sometimes due to circumstance, other times I just forget. So I thought I’d note down those stories that come back to me, usually prompted by other people’s memories or experiences, and hopefully they jog your own memories or inspire you to make your own!
This particular story was prompted by Jordan Ferney’s Berthillon Post and it got me thinking about my own trip to Paris back in 2007 on the tail end of a trip with my good friend R.
It was a hot, sultry summer’s day in Paris, so hot we stuck our bare feet in the fountain outside the Louvre like so many other tourists there. We had just spent an afternoon visiting the Notre Dame, and R was stoked about locating this little ice cream parlour she’d heard about: Berthillon, a little place with a long history and renowned ice cream. We didn’t think it would be too difficult – we had a map, we had an address, how hard could it be?
It turns out that Berthillon’s fame had spread pretty far and wide. We came across what we thought was the shop pretty quickly – it had a long queue but the shop looked suspiciously spanking new… a little walk around revealed that there were more Berthillons that we thought, so many enterprising people capitalizing on the fame of the name. Determined to find the authentic one we persisted and finally found the real deal, a quaint little hole in the wall.
I remember the flavours I chose: classic chocolate and a green granny smith apple sherbet, perhaps a weird combination of flavours but it was pretty divine, that last day of my trip, walking the streets of Paris in the summer heat with a good friend and licking melted ice cream off a strange double-bowled cone and my sticky fingers.
Berthillon | 29-31 Rue Saint Louis en L’ile, 75004 Paris