Let's Meet in Paris

I never would have pictured myself saying, “I’m going to Paris this weekend” in a completely blasé manner. It happened. Repeatedly.

Somehow it didn’t seem like a big deal, precisely because of a problem I’ve consistently had since I’ve come to Europe: I cannot seem to realize that I am in Europe. Even while I was looking out over Paris from the Eiffel Tower, I could not comprehend the fact that I was in Paris.

I took the Eurostar over from London, which was delightful. It only took 2.5 hours to cross the English Channel underground and arrive in Paris. As soon as I arrived at the Paris station, I had the rather formidable task of finding my way to the hostel, as I was to meet my friends there. I looked everywhere for an ATM and tried to make sense of the 15 metro/train lines in Paris on the map. Finally I went to the ticket booth and bought the ticket with my card, but the employee explained how to get there in French (I should tell you that I have taken a few years of French in high school, but that’s it—so my French is rather poor). So I had to puzzle over the map a bit more before tentatively setting off.

I arrived at my hostel safe and sound and waited for my friends to arrive as well. It felt so wonderful to have a reunion with both of my friends from Georgetown, one of whom I had not seen for over six months. We headed up to our room, which ended up being a seven person room they gave to the three of us, because they had run out of three person rooms. Needless to say, we had plenty of space.

On Friday, we went to the Eiffel Tower first, which was so much bigger than I had anticipated. I’m sure you can imagine how surreal that was. Since it was a beautiful, clear day (warmer than England, too), the view of Paris was stunning. Then we headed to the Champs Elysees and walked around and had lunch at a cafe. After that we climbed the 284 steps of the Arc de Triomphe. There is a billowing French flag under the Arc that waves proudly in the wind and proclaims the whole impressive city as French through and through. I enjoyed seeing the Arc from the Eiffel Tower and the Eiffel Tower from the top of the Arc; it made me feel like I was gathering a thorough view of the city.

Next we ventured over to Sacre Couer, which lies on a hilltop; so once again, we had a beautiful view of all of Paris. The theme of Friday seemed to be “Bird’s Eye View of Paris.” We stopped by Moulin Rouge to take a picture. I hadn’t realized that Moulin Rouge is basically the sexual area of Paris, with sex shop after sex shop. Good thing we went in the afternoon. I thought the train stop for Moulin Rouge was rather ironically named: “Blanche.”

We ate dinner in the Latin Quarter, which consisted of a three course meal including: Onion soup, chicken breast, and ice cream. All cafes and restaurants serve slices of baguette with the meal as well. Delicious. Then we went to the Louvre Friday night which was so breathtaking; the architecture alone made me feel a bit faint. Whoever disagrees that art is therapeutic must be soulless. The Mona Lisa was, of course, anticlimactic. But the breadth of the collection overall was astounding. We stopped into Napoleon’s apartments too, which were quite opulent. We ditched our grand plans of heading to a discotecque due to sheer exhaustion. Plus, my body decided to succumb to a terrible cold right before I headed to Paris. Of course. So I immediately fell asleep after our lovely Parisian day.

Saturday we stopped by a bakery to load up on ridiculously delicious pastries and then headed to the Musee d’Orsay which had, I thought, a better collection than the Louvre although the architecture of the Louvre itself is far superior. Room after room of Degas, Manet, Monet, Renoir dazed me; I was in heaven. We then ventured over to Notre Dame, which was simply different than I had expected. Not as dark and not as impressive in a way. But simultaneously, the architecture and spirit of the building itself was awesome. It stuns you and silences you, demands reverence. Well, technically, most people talk obnoxiously loud in a somewhat disrespectful manner, but it had that effect on me at least. I was pleasantly surprised that entering churches in Paris was free; in London, you have to pay to step into the more famous churches, like Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s.

Next we headed to a place called Angelina’s near the Tuillery Gardens that my friend had recommended, for their hot chocolate. It was DELICIOUS. I clearly have not had real hot chocolate before. I think they mix melted chocolate with milk: it tasted like a brownie and chocolate bar in a cup, smoothed and warmed to decadent perfection. Then we ate dinner at a cafe and admired the Eiffel Tower in all its nightly glory before heading to bed.

Sunday we went to the Gregorian mass at Notre Dame. Europe has spoiled me in terms of beautiful choirs and architecture with churches. Heavenly. Then I headed to the train station and came back to Oxford. I must say that spending time with my best friends from Georgetown felt wonderful, and seeing Paris was amazing, but it had two effects on me: first, I felt like we would all be headed back to Georgetown together, which we clearly did not. Secondly, I missed England while I was in France. Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy Paris incredibly much. It just felt lovely to miss my little cozy room, Tesco’s, my Oxford friends, Oxford itself. It felt good to come “home.” My third home at this point, following Kansas and DC. I’m quite content, and ridiculously blessed as usual. A weekend in the city of romance made me super excited for all the travels that await me this year.