Dear World, Happy Easter! I hope you had a wonderful celebration this past weekend. I realized I’m SO DELAYED with my greeting – I’m not even going to lie, it’s because I’ve enjoyed myself too much over the weekend. It’s been a while since I’ve spent a 4-day weekend in town; I usually use those to go on a quick trip somewhere. Ah well, better late than never, right?!
Now that I’ve finished updating you with my most recent travels, it’s time to take you way back to when it all started: Paris.
I can’t recall how Gaby and I started talking about going to Europe. All I remember was my pure joy and excitement as we were planning it. Call it the obsessive-compulsive in me, but I find so much fun in trying to figure out how to go from one city to the other, researching what needs to be seen in each destination, and hunting for the best flight deals (by the way, that was the best deal I’ve ever gotten to date: $560 for YYZ-CDG-FRA-YYZ). The fact that there is so much to see and learn out there continues to fuel my love of travel until today. It’s really why I travel in the first place.
And so, there we were, bleary-eyed, and having spent our first day marveling in the lifestyle of the rich and famous at Versailles, we returned to our hostel in Montmartre, gave into our jet-lag, and slept for 12-hours straight, only waking up at noon the next day.
With stomachs growling, we crossed the street and stepped into a cafe, outside of which sprawled a row of neatly organized round tables with sidewalk-facing chairs that are placed side-by-side (prime spot for people watching, right here!).
Its inside was warm and cozy. Soft, yet audible, music reverberated through the restaurant; it had that distinct harmonica sound that is so quintessentially French. I find it humorous how mundane, every-day things, like the simple act of eating lunch in a restaurant, can be such a novel experience when you are outside the confines of your comfort zone. Ah, such is the consequence of displacing yourself from the familiar into the unfamiliar.
With this new found wonder and curiosity, we put on our travelers’ goggle and started to explore Paris on foot and via its highly-efficient-but-insanely-complex Metro.
We walked its cobble-stoned streets and its countless round-a-bouts, each one posing to be a challenge for us to jay-walk across.
We made our way to the Notre Dame, trying our best to simultaneously capture both its monstrosity and its details.
We walked along the Seine, passing by many makeshift booths, selling vintage posters, books, and souvenirs. In hindsight, I very much regret not buying anything from them.
Our feet eventually led us back to Montmartre and there, on the steps of Sacre-Coeur, we sat among both locals and travelers, listening to the occasional burst of singing and guitar-playing, while marveling at the panoramic view of the city of love under the moonlight.
C’est la vie, indeed.
Have you been to Paris? Did you like it? I didn’t LOVE it, but I thoroughly enjoyed my time there (minus the fact that some parts of the city smells like urine. Ugh!). Do you feel the same way as I do about traveling? How every.single.familiar.thing becomes a novelty all over again? Did you get lost trying to navigate the Metro? If you haven’t been and now that you’ve heard (read) me wax poetic about it?