What a privilege to be ‘stuck’ in Paris for a long weekend, the price of life’s admin and our spontaneity.
Already driving here along the Chateaux de la Loire causes one ‘Wow’ followed by another. Every little village busting of stories to tell, pastries to flavor and castles to wonder through nostalgically wandering about their past.
Once in the French capital itself, the ‘Wow’s only augment exponentially. Culture where the eye drops. Every corner filled with hundreds, if not thousands of years of history. The largest city in the Western world until the turn of the 18th century. The place of so many revolutions. Victor Hugo, Balzac, Zola and the like not only left their legacy in the streets named after them, but also that poetic feeling in the air only a city like Paris could have. Inspiring with every breath I take.
Fashion shining from the boutiques and the Parisians themselves, who all try vehemently to contribute their part to the French glamour. Arrogance sparkling everywhere, but even the rudest waiter and most conceited cheese vendor is forgiven at the taste of their delicious products. The French sure know how to live and cook well. It’s ridiculously hard to pass one mouthwatering Patisserie after the other. Restaurants are full, all the time, everywhere.
Is this city only for the rich and beautiful? A beggar sitting below the 6,000 Euro Ralph Lauren frog. Paris, full of contrasts. Less abled people have to suck it up. Despite six story buildings and thousands of steps to use the metro, no lift in sight. Carrying the kids and the pram thousands of steps up and down every day keeps us fit. But what do people in a wheel chair do?
The sky quite stagnant compared to La Rochelle. The palaces, museums and statues most stunning. Every bridge, a song. The millions of cafes and bistros, exquisite. People watching, a must past time I could indulge in for hours was it not for my little ones dragging me on to the next playground or park. Cigarette smoke blown right into my five months old face – with a smile, all normal here. Cultures clashing, comical! The markets, bustling with life, whilst acknowledging the history of the cobble stone streets they stand on. Time never stops. After having slowed down, an overwhelming experience. It feels like it’d take a lifetime to fully take in this city. So much to see, smell, adore and taste.
The whole city, to me, feels like one big Tarte aux Framboise. I just can’t get enough! Taking it all in on our balcony overlooking the old town and the Eiffel Tower. Staying at the cutest place right in the old town at a friend’s friend’s place. So lucky! When you follow your heart, things come your way, she tells me. Wise woman!
From the moment I step out into the street for my first croissant, to the last sip of French Merlot at night, I silently hum my new mantra: Vive la France.