I stepped off the train in Paris Est after an uneventful ride from Frankfurt. Immediately I was impressed with the sheer numbers of people dashing here and there. Walking up Rue Strasbourg, as it eventually transitioned to Blvd. St. Michel, I felt like a lumbering beast with my mochila next to the chic Parisians and well dressed tourists. I was even scammed out of 30 euro like a true travel moron by a "deaf woman" who seemed professional enough with the exception that she was continually blowing kisses at me. As she ran off with my money, and I realized what had happened, I looked down to see this:
I felt somewhat soothed. My old Camino friend, the yellow area, paints itself wide and far across Paris, leading the pilgrim or curious tourist to all the major cathedrals. This one leads to Notre Dame.
Checking into the Select Hotel on a quaint pedestrian plaza directly in front of the Sorbonne, I chilled out and waited for my lovely parents to arrive. And arrive they did! Talking a mile a minute, keen to set out immediately to explore and jonesing for crepes. It felt like a part of me was home when we were reunited, and although I have been in remote places this year, a part of my heart and conscious was always directed towards the good people I love.
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity, reminiscent of the Rick Steves' vacations of my youth. I smiled at memories of Ethan and I backpacking around Paris and London, always wearing our heaviest coats, no matter the temperature, to lighten the loads of our packs. Walking past Cafe Flor, my parents pointing out the table we sat at so many years before, I could still smell the cigarette smoke of the female patron who sat next to us, more concerned with her lap dog than almost dropping ashes onto my plate.
The same marker outside Notre Dame that Kelsey and I walked past when we began El Camino nine months ago. Woah.
The Pantheon.
Shakespeare and Company bookstore along the Seine.
Over the weekend, we walked the city streets, dropping into the Pantheon to contemplate the final resting place of such people as Voltaire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, and Pierre and Marie Curie. We mixed culture with the Parisian pastime of shopping, strolling through Rodin's sculpture garden and through the trendy Marais district. Indulging in classic crepes, L'as du Fallafel, dainty sauces, croissants, baguette with a touch of butter, and bold coffee. All things indulgent, all things French.
On Monday and Tuesday, we got our tennis on, watching the gladiators of the sport throw it all down on the court. Our first day was four matches of doubles tennis, lightening quick and fascinating with the teamwork between the pairs. There were certainly more smiles from the players during these doubles games, as the two could work through the ups and downs of the play with each other. The next day we saw Maria Sarapova duke it out against Spanish upcomer Garbine Muguruza, seemingly faltering in the first set, to assert her experience and dominance in the second and third. Next, was Novak Djokovic against Milo's Raonic. Watching him play was like a dream, such skill and grace. As a once removed tennis buff, really only following the game through my parents, it was a thrill to see it played out live. Maybe the U.S. Open 2015?
The next day, Mum and Pop headed to the Loire valley and I moved into my home for the next month:
Thank you, mahalo, merci to my Uncle Joel and Aunt Karen for the generous gift of this apartment for a month in Paris. I am inspired.
Steps from Rue Jacob and Blvd. St. Germain, it is situated in an incredible part of town. In any direction from the flat is a world famous museum. Boulangeries, cafes and open air markets dot the area and there is an air of chic with high end stores next to Sorbonne student influence of art house theaters and art supply stores. I will admit I felt a bit lonely being on my own in this bustling city. It is a truth that the loneliest times can be when you are alone surrounded by people. I never get a sense of loneliness on long hikes or walks in the woods. But isolated by my lack of French speaking skills, overwhelmed by the sheer number of tourists and daunted by the expense of EVERYTHING, it felt like such a different experience than much of my other travels. Despite my loneliness, I set about taking long, long walks through the city, eating tomato and mozzarella sandwiches and taking restful naps in various parks.
I took myself to an Arcade Fire concert, one of my all time favorite groups. I loved knowing and singing to their entire lineup.
My parents returned on Friday and my spirits rose. They loved their time in the Loire valley wine region, lugging back a suitcase considerably heavier with wine than when they left Paris. That last night before they headed home we splurged on dinner at Le Grand Colbert, made famous by the movie Something's Gotta Give. We even sat in the exact spot as Diane Keaton, Jack Nicholson and Keanu Reeves. Full of wisdom and kindness, they helped me sort through my feelings of being lost in this city. I felt invigorated when they left yesterday, with a renewed sense of soaking it all in during my month here. Undoubtedley this city is monumentally beautiful, inspiring the most capable and artistic minds of history. I will endeavor to look past the commercialism and on to the magnificence.
From Rue Cler, Sacre Coeur, scoping out the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe and Champs-Élysées, Luxembourg Garden and the Tulleries I am exploring bit by bit, with much more to come. Tomorrow I head to Amsterdam to welcome home the Europa after their year wandering the world's oceans.
Random Queen of England drive by.
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