Attempting to emulate my heroes' experiences of the world is why I've been left feeling destined to be in the right place at the wrong time disappointed by the reality of what these cities had become, or never were.
To say that Paris did not meet those lofty expectations is best encapsulated by how Cafe de Flore, the restaurant that Hemingway waxes so lyrically about, has become the Angus Steakhouse of Parisian tourist traps.
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