There is something truly indescribable about Paris. There must be something in the air there, because each time I have been there, it has felt as though I'm walking on a cloud. Paris has long been the inspiration for so many artistic, literary and cinematic figures, and, after mere minutes of wandering down little side streets, it's not hard to imagine why. On the airplane ride home, one of the movies I watched was Woody Allen's latest, Midnight in Paris. While it was typical Allen in that it was just a bit kooky (and, besides, I didn't fully agree with casting Owen Wilson for the lead male role, but I digress), the message really resonated for me and, I realized, sort of helped me verbalize what makes Paris "it" for francophiles. Like Owen Wilson's character, lovers of Paris have a certain sense of nostalgia for the city. A walk down its tree-lined boulevards makes one imagine the city's halcyon days, leaving one constantly imagining, with every turn and at every corner, the legends who stood there in the past and the historical, or simply mundane, acts that occurred there. My dad pointed out that he felt like the buildings were all too uniform and cold in their construction, but I would counter that by saying that, even in their relative uniformity, there are subtle distinctions. And, rather than be put off by the "coldness," I look at the balconies, the terrace gardens and wonder who lives there. While the observer is, to an extent, shut out, there is a certain invitation to curiosity about the lives of the people who live in those buildings. Paris, simply put, has a certain je ne sais quoi that is nearly impossible to articulate unless you have been there. All I know is that, the second I stepped off that train at Gare de l'Est, I was glowing, and the feeling certainly didn't fade.
I had forgotten how easy the Parisian metro system is to navigate, so I had us at our hotel in no time at all. Before the light faded, I proposed that my mom and I head up to Montmartre, in my opinion, one of the two best views of the city, the other being the view from atop the Arc de Triomphe. Our first stop was the Mur de je t'aime, one of my favorite spots in the city. On this wall is written "I love you" in every language imaginable. It is quite the romantic spot, understandably, despite the nagging feeling that the wall suggests more multicultural openness and acceptance than is a reality in France. From the foot of the hill, at Abbesses, we walked up to Sacre Cœur. I am someone who likes to marvel at things, and I think that's another reason why I love Paris. Everywhere you turn, there is something to marvel at, and I could look out on that view of the city all day long. Surrounding the church was a Christmas market, which, along with other markets near the Trocadéro and the Champs Elysées, made me chuckle. Even in this bastion of secularism, Parisians can't help but embrace Christmas...or maybe it's just that they appreciate it in its more shallow, gift-giving sense. After walking through the church, we wandered around Montmartre some more, the squares where artists displayed their wares and painted pictures of some of the other tourists, and finally found a little café where we had dinner.
We ended the night by heading down to the Trocadéro and took in the Tour. The Eiffel Tower, while the pinnacle of touristy attractions in the city, is somehow not degraded in beauty by its overly touristy existence. Especially when it's lit up at night, as well as when it twinkles brightly every hour on the hour :) It is truly a sight to behold, and, even though I felt no need to go to the top, as I did that on my first trip to Paris, I could just stand there and look at it forever.
My dad and Tim arrived first thing on Friday morning, and we quickly left the hotel so they would have no chance to fall asleep. We metroed over to the Notre Dame area and, before visiting the storied cathedral, enjoyed a full French breakfast (I think I successfully got my family hooked on pain au chocolat, although I was informed that, without my knowledge, my mother used to buy them at Dunkin' Donuts. Psh, secret sugar consumption...I'm of the be loud, be proud sugar consumption school!). After Notre Dame, we wandered the Left Bank a bit before stopping off at the Louvre (just for pictures, since Tim is really not a museum guy, especially on no sleep). From there, we walked through the Tuileries, through Place de la Concorde and down the entirety of the Christmas market-lined Champs Elysées. My heart was broken when I discovered that the La Durée location had sustained major damage during a fire, and thus was not open for dining, so my pastry had to wait until London :( We were able to walk up the Arc de Triomphe, though, which, as I said, is my other favorite view of the city. After a nice pizza lunch, we walked over to the Tour Eiffel so that my dad and Tim could see it, and then went back to the hotel to crash for a bit. We ended up wandering through the 8ème, where our hotel was located, only to find that there were no suitable dinner options there, so we ended up just sitting in a little bistro just down the street from our hotel for our last dinner in Paris. I had been relishing in using my French again (and was shocked at how quickly and naturally it came back to me), but, as I may have mentioned in my Strasbourg post, there are simply food items (particularly of the meat variety) whose French equivalents I don't know, so I felt bad that, when asked to translate menus for my family, I kind of had to shrug my shoulders.
On Saturday morning, Christmas Eve, we schlepped over to Gare du Nord, where our train to London was leaving from. It was there that I got my ever-elusive French passport stamp. In all of the times that I have been in France, I have never gotten a passport stamp (which, if you ask me, has to be some sort of security breach), so I was delighted when I got an exit stamp there. While I was weary from being tour guide and translator, I knew I would miss Paris. Actually, when I watched Midnight and Paris on the plane, whose opening scenes are a collage of shots of Paris, it brought tears to my eyes. I think that the way people love Paris is similar to how they would love a person, which would explain the very strong attachment that I have to the city.
I will eventually get the London, Edinburgh and Dublin posts up, as well as pictures!!! Bear with me, folks...
