Coffee, Paris and Life (all the good stuff)

PARIS FEBRUARY: This morning my travel and virtual office buddy, Sarah, and I are doing a chunk of work from our two bedroom, awesome apartment in Saint Germain, booked with Melbourne based accommodation group, The French Experience. 

In preparation for a day of content and work from us both, I scoot across the road to get some of the best coffee in Paris. The café manager and our new friend, Nico, seems very pleased to let me know that he’s having an “awesome” day, in his best Australian. 

Nico is lovely and one of my favourites.  He helped us with our luggage on our first day as we sought refuge from the cold, waiting for entry to our apartment.  He's polite, accommodating and actually shows recognition of who we when we return – a beautiful thing in Paris as it’s so rare.  The barista whips up a couple of fab takeaways and we get chatting about where he’s from (Iowa) and why I’m in Paris (work).  He tells me I’m very lucky to be able to visit Paris and work at the same time and I agree.

He also tells me they get a lot of people from Melbourne coming through the café and again I agree.  “It’s good coffee,” I explain, “Melburnian’s need good coffee!”.  

I walk back across the road and up to our apartment already rethinking my decision of ordering a small instead of a large.  Drop the latte off to Sarah, who’s been working since 6am, and I sit down and start my own.  

Seeing as we've spent too much on shopping already in our first three days, we've committed to a big day of work and a cost-free visit to the Eiffel Tower this afternoon - to gaze up and see the last of the blue skies before SNOW (!) hits on the weekend.

We have a jam packed schedule while we’re here and a lot of work to get done for our fabulous clients.  But every now and then I have to pinch myself that the vision I had two years ago has slowly come to life.  I’m working from Paris, through my own business, and drinking great coffee while I do it.  Tres magnifique.

My perspective today?  This is your life. Make it what you want.  And always appreciate nice people and great coffee.

With love from Paris, LMM xoxo

Bonjour Mon Cheries!

The streets are cold and our apartment is warm.  I notice at 6:30am there is a distinct aroma of baking in the lounge room and then I remember our apartment is above a patisserie. Of course it is. We’re in Paris.

So after the long haul that distances Australia from majority of the world, LMM has arrived in Paris for her girly writing biz trip with friend and fellow freelancer, Sarah Kempson

The driver for our private transfer was incredibly sweet but it’s not hard to win hearts with basic manners when your customers have been in transit for more than an entire day.  Within hours of being in the country we were at my fave Parisian cafe inhaling excellent coffee and possibly a cheeky vin rouge on the side.  We chatted with one patron expat who has called Paris home for seven years and, before that, Melbourne for two. Coutume Café always seems to hold some connection to Melbourne and it appears that nothing has changed.

A mid-afternoon brunch and then we were in our two bed apartment in the 6th which we’ll call home for a week.  Laptops were out almost instantly to play catch up and do some work, as is the life of a borderless freelancer.  Let alone the fact that I love my job, who could possibly complain about having Paris as your virtual office? 

While in France, we’ll be tweeting, blogging, working plus writing for My French Life and Onya Magazine. And seeing as iconic Paris department store, Le Bon Marche, is a mere 600m from our apartment, there are solid plans to begin making our Melbourne shopping mark right after some early morning work and coffee to boot.

With Coutume right across the road and open right about…now, it’s time to get on that.

Au revouir for now mon cheries!

LMM xoxo

Rose Bakery in Paris

I haven’t blogged about much of my Paris adventure mostly because I’m saving it up for a special occasion and I’m sure you’ve been hearing about it enough on Twitter.  But I did want to share with you my experience of Rose Bakery, a cute little English/French café that I visited for lunch in the Marais.


It’s not that Rose was the best place I visited but it was a humbling friendly café which meant much to me after a couple of days of frustrating dialect and poor food choices as a result.  I’d woken up late with an empty stomach but had already decided the night before that Rose was on the agenda.  I’d heard a lot about it in reviews and around the digital traps, including the promise of a good flourless orange cake - one of my many soft spots.

Strained coffee & raisin scone at Rose
Two thirds of the way there, hungry and with my writing calling, I was rethinking my decision. Before too long though I was at Rose, and on quietly asking the serving Australian if they do good coffee, she informed me the machine was broken but they could offer some kind of organic infused concoction.  For the most part, coffee in Paris is more or less appalling in comparison to what Melbourne serves up so I figured it couldn’t get any worse and went ahead with said caffeinated replacement.  Add to that a raisin scone for devouring on the spot plus a slice of flourless orange cake (sold by weight, not per slice) and baked vegetable quiche to go.

Rose Bakery in the Marais is a beautiful, well lit, calming little spot with lots of organic produce about the place and big red apples in big wired baskets standing proud at the entrance.  The scone was nicely warmed when it arrived and perfectly fresh with softened butter on the side – on par with what my mother makes which is saying something.  My black organic coffee was really very nice and of a quality nearly on par with Coutume Café – this is also saying something.  I wanted another delicious raisin scone but given the fact my jeans were still fitting at this point, I thought again.

At the register, I spotted their range of salads and couldn’t resist taking some of these home too; red cabbage and lentils, broccoli and buffalo mozzarella, and mixed roast vegetables all made for a delectable supper, particularly with the square of quiche on the side (amazing pastry).  I will say that the flourless orange cake was too dry, especially in comparison to that from Melbourne’s Mr Tulk which is moist, intact and with a tangy orange icing on top.  This didn’t stop me eating every morsel.  In the end, the only thing I was rethinking about my trip to Rose Bakery was not taking my laptop or think diary.  A very reasonable four out of five hearts.  Yum.

Rose Bakery has three organically grown locations in the 3rd, 9th and 11th arrondissements of Paris.

Go there for brunch or lunch, eat in or take away.

Bitter Sweet Writing (and why I am in Paris)

I don’t know about every other writer out there and how their brain works.  But for me personally the best time for me to write is when my writer’s voice has stumbled upon a topic in my brain and started to pick it to pieces in an unrelenting and uncontrollable manner. 


I love it when this happens; the words dance around in my head creating a tangled mess of rhythmical prose just itching to get out.  Of course, untangling the mental dialogue and turning it into something more palpable and coherent entails firstly getting those words out - as and when they happen.  When an idea pops into my head and that voice starts tumbling it over like an oversized jumper in the dryer, I need to transcribe the theory it’s discussing before the opportunity to do so is gone (and before I implode). 

Unfortunately, this mostly occurs at inopportune times; walking, talking, working, sleeping (or often not, as it so happens).  Without scribbling it down at that moment, it's then usually catalogued to the back of LMM’s brain as a “must write” without ever making it to the big screen.  Life has a nasty and ironic habit of getting in the way of doing things. 

However, after once hearing a little rumour that an idea is nothing until it’s put into effect (I concur), I figured a lifetime sentence in my head simply won’t do; besides this, my RAM is sure to fill up soon enough if some of the stuff is not spat out.  And hence why I find myself in Paris, removed from life’s day to day distractions, to write. 

Despite the at-times-incovenient need to throw together a few words, this lucky duck is fortunate enough to have an abundance of thoughts to write about, most of the time.  Not to mention having ended up in Paris to do so.  As far as the bitter sweet life of a writer goes, this must be nothing less than pur miel. 

Yours with love, LMM xoxo

PS This little number is no different - awake at 3am on a Sunday to harvest the thought - and I really did want to share this one with you. If I have to go through it, you do too! ;)