I particularly loved the filigree intricacy of Paris’ details as Bill and I walked around, contrasted against the very sturdy and austere looking buildings. I know I mentioned this previously in a Paris post. Although, I’m not sure I have ever witnessed that anywhere else. Of course Barcelona springs to mind all of a sudden to put paid to that romantic notion, another city like Paris that I have visited multiple times since I was in my teens. But then both cities were heavily redesigned during the height of the Art Nouveau craze, and by all accounts it really was a craze, that once settled down caused such unprecedented and astounding artistry to die a very sudden and sorry death, being replaced by the anal lines, angles, measured curves, and stark contrasts of Art Deco, quite in opposition to its more fluid predecessor. I’m a big fan of Art Deco too, but I’m thankful that much of the architecture and ode to the beauty of nature and love that was the embodiment of Western European Art Nouveau still survives in both cities, much to my very grateful artistic eye, and my deeply romantic heart (Shhh! Don’t tell anyone!).