I am now living in Viscri, Romania for the next 3 months. I
won’t say the transition has been easy; even just getting here was quite an
adventure. My flights started from Houston to Paris on Wednesday afternoon, so
by Thursday morning I was in Paris with a 10 hour layover, so I decided I
should go out and explore the city!
This is a lot easier said than done, since I don’t speak a
word of French and I needed to find a place to hold my carry on luggage. After
an hour of being completely confused about where I needed to go I finally found
the place that will watch your luggage for you in the train station. Then the
next issue to address was how do I purchase a ticket into Paris and which one
is right? All the lines were extremely long, so I hopped into the shortest one
I saw and hoped for the best. 30 minutes later and a tiny ticket in hand I
searched for the proper train to take me into the city center of Paris. Once
again I decided to just wing it and got on a train and took a seat next to the
window…a few minutes later an older couple sat next to me. They spoke English!!
They sounded familiar too. They began asking me in what sounded like strained
French something about directions I assume, and when I answered in English we
all had relief wash over our faces. I found out they were from Sugarland, Texas,
a mere 20 minutes away from where my parents live and they were on their 33rd
anniversary trip through France. Surprised that I had just jumped on a random
train they helped me understand where it was that I needed to be going and how
I would get there (luckily I had picked the right train because it had already
left at that point!)
An hour later I found myself standing on a platform. Alone.
In Paris. I decided to follow a lady who looked like she knew where she was
going, she was wearing 6 inch stilettos so I thought one wouldn’t wear such
uncomfortable shoes if they didn’t know where they were…My assumption worked as
I found myself in the middle of beautiful Paris. I have never been enthralled
with the mystique of Paris, I have never even wanted to visit because there
have always been other places more important for me to see; however, as soon as
I saw the streets and the building I understood. I understood why so many of my
favorite authors turned to Paris for inspiration and chose it as their desired
location to write. There is something magical about it. With the language, the
wine, the flowers, rows upon rows of old books for sale next to the Seine, the
boats, and the Parisians on small streets off the beaten path; I was inspired
like so many before me to write. After getting lost for a while in my search
for Notre Dame, I finally found it and decided to make my way to the Eiffel
Tower by walking along the river. I stopped and had a delicious brunch and
filled my journal, page after page while sipping on red wine and eating an
omelet. I cherished this moment of solitude as I was completely alone in
foreign city, a foreign country, and yet I was completely content with only
myself. It was one of those moments where I just stop and let everything around
me wash over me so I can absorb every sensation and emotion.
Along the way towards the Eiffel Tower, I decided to walk
among the residential streets and take a break from the occasional strong
whiffs of urine that accompanied the area surrounding the scenic river. This is
the second time I got lost while wandering the streets of Paris, and I can say
it was the most pleasant experience, especially for being lost. I walked along
winding streets occasionally catching glimpse of the Eiffel Tower to guide my
progress, then all of a sudden I wandered into a park that provided a
picturesque view of the laced, wrought iron structure. As I walked closer and
saw firsthand how large it was, I decided I had to go to the top. While I was
waiting in line the guy behind me asked if I was alone…well yes. He questioned
me further, continually commenting on how ironic it was that we were both alone
and he thought it would be a good idea for us to go up together, for picture
purposes of course. So up we went, swapping cameras constantly taking pictures
for one another, and eventually together. As we neared the top a rainstorm
rolled in drenching me (good thing I had decided to wear a white t-shirt), but
despite the cold rain and the slightly creepy Lebanese guy continually hitting
on me the view of Paris and the river was breathtaking.
By the time I got down from the tower I knew I needed to
rush back to catch a train and subsequently catch my flight to Budapest in four
hours. I awkwardly said goodbye to Tarek declining his invitation to dinner and
briskly began attempting to walk back towards Notre Dame. (I didn’t realize how
much walking I would be doing because I stupidly decided to wear cute and
unsupportive sandals…my feet were killing me!) Along the way I stopped and had
dinner at a cute restaurant, and I discovered that the entrance to the train
station I had emerged from earlier that morning was right next to Notre Dame,
if only I had turned around and looked!
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| Random building I found while searching for Notre Dame...little did I know I had just barely missed it. The selfie game at it's weakest. |
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| Ohh look I found you!! Now how do I get to you? |
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| Notice the sensible footwear... |
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| It was so worth getting soaked. |
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| Look at all the little ants down there! Oh wait those are people... Commence mini panic attack at the height at the lowest level. |
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| My picture partner Tarek...can't say I will miss you. |
