It’s taken me a while to sit down and put my experience of
Paris into words. It’s difficult to completely capture this journey, the
people, the city with only pen and paper (handwrote this condensed version of our trip on my hostel bunk
first). Paris—a place as dreamed about as often as it is denounced as cliché
and overrated, a place praised for its beauty and romance as often as it is
condemned for its dirt and stench, a home to musicians and artists as well as
peddlers and vagabonds. What a wonderfully different world we found ourselves
in this weekend.
I didn’t
realize how excited I was about Paris until we saw the distant shape of the
Eiffel Tower peaking above the surrounding buildings in the distance. However, the moment we got dropped off at our
stop felt like one of those movie scenes in which the character has just
teleported (or apparated if you’re a HP fan, which Megan is NOT btw! I don’t
know how we’re even friends) and is frozen in shock in the midst of people
rushing by and the sound of city traffic.
Despite our
complete disorientation and initial bewilderment as to how one is to work the
metro, Megan and I made it safely to our hostel, where we met our friend Katie
from Loma. Thank goodness for Katie, who taught us how to figure out the metro
and spent the whole weekend showing us around the city. We had such a wonderful time with Katie, exploring Paris as she knew it. She definitely helped us make the most of our experience there.
Our first
day in Paris was a dream. Big, white cotton-ball clouds sailed through the
bright blue sky as we made our way into the big city. First, Katie took us
around her favorite part of Paris—a less touristy area by her school with the
quaint little European side-streets and a park where we spotted our first
artists placidly painting behind their easels.
Afterwards,
we headed further into the heart of Paris. This is where you have a view of the
canal, where you can find a café on every corner and the sugary smell of crepes
lingers in the air. Looking down the canal, you see the beautiful bridges
arching over it, the Eiffel Tower standing tall and magnificent in the
distance.
After a day
full of walking and exploring, we concluded the night with a dinner of Croque
Madames, a walk down Champs-Elysées, a visit to the Arc de Triomphe, and last
but not least, the most delicious macaroons on a set of steps with a view of
the twinkling Eiffel tower—a tradition that we continued every night of our
stay.
Saturday we
took a day trip to the Palace of Versailles, just outside of Paris. With
floor-to-ceiling paintings and intricate designs filling every centimeter of
space, this golden palace was well worth the trip to the outskirts of the city.
On Sunday,
we climbed the Eiffel Tower with a bag of macaroons and a baguette in hand. We shared
this very Parisian meal with the breathtaking view of the city below us and the
wind threatening to blow my new hat off my head. I loved every second of it,
besides the unfortunately stale macaroons we bought from a random bakery on the
way there. I wouldn't recommend it.
We
concluded our last night in Paris on the steps we had claimed for ourselves the first night,
eating macaroons with Frank Sinatra playing in the background as the Eiffel
Tower glittered in front of us. That will never get old.
Monday was
our last day in Paris, and I was not ready to leave. We had yet to visit the
Louvre or any other museums, but we decided that climbing the towers of the
Notre Dame Cathedral would be more of an experience.
As we
climbed the endless winding steps of Notre Dame’s towers, the excitement built
as the ominous song from The Hunchback of Notre Dame continued to revolve in my
head. Once outside, we were greeted by an amazing view of Paris with the Eiffel
Tower standing high above the other buildings in the distance. It was a real-life
set right out of the movie with the big bell towers and the gargoyles keeping
watch over every ledge.
We went into one of the towers in
hopes of being there when the bell rang, but it turns out that the bell only
rings on holidays when people aren’t allowed in, because the sound would be
deafening. We did however, get to hear the bell from the opposite tower ring
while we ate our packed lunch as we leaned on a wall overlooking the city.
Before departing, we went back to our favorite
macaroon place, Stohrer, where the sweet owner complimented my French every
time I listed the types of macaroons I wanted. This time Megan and I split a
giant pistachio macaroon and a tiramisu.
Paris was
better than I could have imagined—it was the sparkling lights of the Eiffel
Tower at night, it was bikes whirring by with baguettes or flower bouquets in
their baskets, it was the smell of crepes wafting in the air, it was the song
of a musician echoing through the metro station. It was also the sound of
beggars aggressively shaking their cups of change on the streets, and the
closing of a metro car’s doors behind a crowd of people stuffed comically like
sardines.
It was
beautiful and magical and romantic and sad… I loved Paris. Retrospectively, I know
it wasn’t my absolute favorite place, but being there in the midst of the big city,
under the twinkling lights of the tower, I was in love with Paris. I will be
back without a doubt, but I have definitely fallen in love with other places
since then. Crazy what traveling does to you—to your heart,
to your head—it’s impossible to return without feeling changed in some
unexplainable way. It's wonderful.
Until next time,
Lisa & Megan
