If someone asked me if I was a Francophile, I'd have to answer, no, not really. I mean, I've always been fascinated with French food, for sure, but going there, living there, learning all I can about France is a recent desire. As in 3 months old. (I even took a "Are you a Francophile quiz" and scored  : " You are not much of a Francophile.")

In January of this year, I was in Paris for four days with my two twenty-something daughters and my dear friend, Heather, who is an expat living in the Netherlands and we walked across this bridge (pictured above). I didn't have the official story on why the Pont des Arts is honored in such a way, but it doesn't take an investigative journalist to put it together.

The locks and ribbons are loaded with names, and hearts and dates and lots of phrases, that even if you don't know the languages they are written in, you get the message...

It's a place where lovers come, to celebrate each other. To celebrate love. (Even though the Telegraph reported in May 2010 the locks had been removed, by the time we were there 8 months later, it was clear the lovers were winning.)

As we walked over the bridge, realizing what the locks and ribbons represented, my romantic young daughters declared that one day they would return to Paris with their husbands and place a lock and ribbon on the bridge to celebrate their own love story. The romantic in me, that still rears it's head every now and again, briefly thought the same thing. Then quickly the realist in me poke it's head up and chirped, "Why are you going to wait on a man to come back to a city that calls to you?"

So that's when the plans started forming in my mind to live in France for the summer. That's when one of the most Romantic Cities in the World, the City of Lights, the City of Love became my "personnels destination femme seule" (personal single woman destination). So, now that I have decided I am going. I'm inviting you all to come along via this blog.

I'm not going as a Francophile that already loves everything French or a foodie that thinks all French food is the be all and end all or as a romantic travel writer going to point out the most romantic sights in the city. But I'm going as a recently divorced woman who is sort of living her own version of Eat, Pray Love, Under the Tuscan Sun, and How Stella Got Her Groove Back. And I'll be writing from a southern food lover, travel lover and well, "me" perspective. I'll be blogging weekly on the preparations, asking for advice and encouragement and sharing my hopes, victories and failures along the way.

The apartment is rented, the plane tickets purchased. Go ahead and start praying my French improves before June! Plus à venir. (More to come.)