From the time we stepped off the train a little over two weeks ago, Paris has been disorienting. Like many big cities, it is loud, crowded, hectic. Further complicating things is the fact that Paris is in France. Our friends working in Paris told us that up is down in France and down is up, and not to question why. (This hasn’t stopped us from questioning why the light switches turn out upside down, why the spin cycle on the washing machine only actually spins every couple minutes, or why two light switches need to be in the correct position to turn on the overhead light). Every time we go into our favorite bakery around the corner, we feel like the people using cash who interrupt the flow in that credit card commercial. We stand there, debating our choices, while the other customers sail in and out. The girl behind the counter eventually gives up on us and walks away. When we finally make our selections, we awkwardly order. Meanwhile, the cashier continually calls out in a sing-song voice, Bonjour! Merci Beacoup! Baguette! Madelienes! Mer-ci Bea-coup!
I liked Paris from the start, but I couldn’t say it was love at first sight. Sure, I thought, Paris is a nice city, but what makes it different than any other big city? Initially, the highlights of Paris were seeing our friend Matt and Sean’s friends from work and the hairdryer, heated towel rack, and washing machine in the apartment.
We filled our days with all that Paris has to offer.
We admired the very tall stained glass windows at 13th century Saint Chappelle.
We viewed the flagrant flaunting of royal opulence outside the city at Versailles.
We gazed at the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance at night.
We walked down Champ Elysses to the magnificent Arc de Trimoph, and strolled along the river by Notre Dame.
We had a picnic at the Eiffel Tower, surrounded by spring flowers. (And very aggressive French ducks).
We viewed Paris from up on high, from Montmarte and Printemps.
Sean went to the Louvre, and Musee de Orsay.
We visited Notre Dame.
We did sport in Luxembourg Garden, and watched others do sport, French-style, in Luxembourg Garden. (A woman at Matt’s work told him that she was into “sport.” When he asked what type of sports she liked, she said, “oh, I do fitness.”)
We amused ourselves by playing chicken with the French on the narrow sidewalks, once we realized we were the only ones constantly moving out of the way.
I visited La Patisserie Reves, where pastries are treated as works of art.
We walked around the Merais neighborhood, where Jewish shops abound.
I did a taste-off between the macaroons from Laduree and Pierre Herme. (It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it). I declared the verdict between the shops to be a tie, with the chocolate ones from either to be the big winner.
Somewhere between evening walks to fetch the different components for dinner, daily visits to “our” bakery, “wasting” time sitting outdoors at cafes, spotting a French model perform a fashion shoot on a crowded street, tasting the French and international flavors of the city, and visits to Luxembourg Garden, I think I fell in love with Paris. Often, the days we didn’t have anything in particular planned were the best ones, because something always popped up. I think this is what I like best about Paris. Paris is big, concrete and stone. I had to search for little bright spots. But they kept popping up.
I will be posting about our trip to Brussels this past weekend soon, but I must get to sleep now. Tomorrow, we are off to Morocco, a whole new country, a whole new continent. As fascinating as Europe is, it is much like the United States, relatively speaking, so our first foray into Africa should be interesting. We fly into Essaouria, and will be traveling throughout Morocco for the next two weeks.
I cried when I left Paris. However, I have a different perspective of the city because well I’d studied the language from 7th grade until I graduated college. That being said, I always pictured myself as the owner of a stone cottage on a vineyard. When the movie French Kiss came out I felt that movie portrayed my destiny. Insert Matthew years later, and here I am a yinzer for life. Maybe not though….. I see a Danielle hosted you in Normandy in a stone cottage on a farm. Maybe fate is subtly hinting 🙂