My four days in Paris just a few weeks ago were four of the most topsy turvy of days ever. I came looking for one thing totally and completely blindly, and left finding a whole bunch of other things that made up for everything else that seemed to go wrong. Eye opening is the best way to describe my four most recent days in Paris. Most of the good things that I found were within myself. The other things tangible and beautiful; takeaway things that one can always rely on when visiting Paris. At least I think so. Things like the way the narrow sidewalks feel beneath my boots as I sometimes lose my balance, or speed up to hip hop around a slow passerby. How when the sun breaks through the gloom, the canvas of Paris lights up unlike anything else I’ve ever seen before, and I feel myself holding back blinks in fear of losing a second of the sight. Light leaking through a haze and acting like a signal for life, and finally bodies begin to fill up the streets and an energy that is slow and steady ensues. The way my stomach feels after two croissants, one chocolate and one plain, and a coffee in the morning. My stomach full and warm and secure, as I zig zag through the streets with directions my friend gave me just five minutes before and a screen captured map on my phone. With trust in my gut and a hope in my soul that I will be lucky in my left and right turns to come. The four hours I spent at the Louvre museum with my headphones plugged in and playing on repeat all of Fleurie’s new singles and almost being brought to tears by the history of such a gorgeous, gorgeous city complemented by a sadly stunning soundtrack. A poetic ballet dance in my head as my eyes scan walls and walls of historical brushstrokes moving this way and that way. I was in my own little world and it meant everything to me to have it during those four hours alone in this massive museum in a city I hardly knew at all. But I felt perfectly at ease. Bopping to the music in my ears on the subway and noticing local Parisians curious at the way I nodded my head with my eyes closed. I smile at them. Maybe they don’t smile back. But I like to make others feel curious, so I just let it be. The bold red doors I pass sporadically. The smell of pistachio croissants from blocks away and the way they make my mouth water. Colorful loads of fruits and vegetables at the markets that are like instantaneous injections of happiness. The street facing chairs in front of each and every cafe. The oldest bar in Paris where I chatted with a friend that I had no idea was in Paris about how the idea of love can go oh so very wrong, but that it can be the very best thing to happen in a very long time. I took it all in, even though they weren’t the things I initially came looking for. But they inspired me to keep on exploring. And explored I did. As much as I could my four days in Paris. Paris wasn’t romantic for me except for the two kisses that landed on my hands by two Frenchmen. But who knows, maybe next time. There is always a next time. And that is the most exciting thing. xo.
france, paris, Travel, Writing