As I sat over my tea and croissant in an unremarkable Paris boulangerie, looking out into the pre-dawn darkness, snow began to fall. Large, fluffy flakes quickly dusted the sidewalk. Traffic was light on this Saturday morning, although it was nearly 8am. Sunrise wasn’t due for nearly another hour, but I bundled up and headed out, across the street and into the Bois de Vincennes, a sprawling, forested park sometimes called the “lungs of Paris”. I was determined to continue my unbroken sequence of weekend hiking – today was my fifteenth consecutive weekend hike, now spanning five countries.
David Kotz 