Infinite Paris

Paris in Springtime promised infinite beauty, culture (however relative), art, architecture, romance, poetry, satisfaction and bliss. Paris in the spring of 2009 for my friend Alison and I, fell a hair short of our delusional, fancified demands and left us feeling slightly under-whelmed, like children who watch entirely too much television. We went wide-eyed and open, suitcases bursting at the seams with our chic and most glamourous. Our intentions were to leave a mark on Paris, soak in some fashion inspiration, be a tourist for a day or 2 and knock back a few bottles of moderately priced Bordeau in the interim. 

Delusion #1: I am a strict vegan, devoted to an organic, natural lifestyle who went to Paris expecting that this would be normal, or dare I say, even heard of. 

Delusion #2: I, like many English speaking foreigners, felt that a trip to Paris with a repertoire of about 15 french words and maybe 4 phrases would never be offensive and annoying to the French, but would actually be met, at best, with interest, at worst, with apathy. 

Delusion #3: Paris is that fairy-tale that jumps out at you from the pages of couture magazines, where the waif-thin women are impeccably styled, the men, chic and chivalrous, and the architecture reminiscent of a fabulous and forgotten time. 

Allow me to share Paris, as I experienced it. I expected to find an overt, and forceful grandeur; a tyrannical beauty that would slap me upside the head and point out all the reasons I did not fit in. Instead, I was met with a quaint and hidden luster that refused to acknowledge, let alone embody, a tourist's stereotypical expectations. And rightfully so. It was only after I returned home, and looked through my photos that I found all of the details that had eluded me. 

The meticulously chiseled elements of Notre Dame's architecture, framed by the softness of pink cherry blossoms is breathtaking. A field of tulips blooming in Luxembourg gardens, may not necessarily be worth a mention to most people, but  for some strange reason, these were the biggest tulips I had ever seen.

 It's definitely the small things., and it is this amazing combination of small things (and one specific famous, big thing) that makes Paris what it is. It's an invitation to fall in love. 

To walk along the River Seine hand in hand, stopping only for a passionate, public kiss... every 10 or so seconds along the way. It's the lingering tangy-sweet of a "vin rouge" at a small cafe in the open night air. It's the flirtatious smile of a handsome stranger on the other side of the Metro platform, seconds before he boards a train to obscurity. It's the french fries (extra salt and ketchup sil vous plait), a black currant sorbet in the unexpected April heat, and the strange, fleeting desire to smoke a cigarette, if only for an out-of-body thrill. 

And then you see it, and reality comes rushing back. The Tour Eiffel. Imposing, unnecessary, fantastic. I wanted to love it right away, but that would make me a groupie; the girl who went

 to Paris and loved the Eiffel Tower. Where was the originality in that?

I tried to capture fragments and perspectives, something that would make this experience different from everyone else's. 

But however I carved it up, I was impressed, and I would have to get over that. Shapes, angles, curves, patterns, symmetry, precision. It really was a glory... real talk! It was in that moment that I exhaled and thought, wow, I'm really standing

under the Eiffel Tower. THE Eiffel Tower. And then that instant of groupie-love fizzled when I saw the line of people waiting to go to the top. I contemplated it for a second, I will admit, but then I came to my senses. There was no way I would come to Paris and let a 2 hour queue deter me from climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower. The view, as you could imagine, was awesome, even on that partly foggy day, so naturally I returned to see the light show and experience the Tower by night. There are no words. The Eiffel Tower at night is just that, The Eiffel Tower At Night. There is nothing that compares, there is nothing that describes, there is no other way to know what that means, other than to be there, feeling your eyes widen and that involuntary smile come to your face. I suggest you wear a beret to add to the whole experience. It just seems right. :)

The Musee du Louvre, the Ancient Egyptian Obelisk of Luxor, the Arc du Triomphe, the Opera, the Pantheon, Avenue Champs d'Elysees and all the other must-sees

 were definitely covered, as they should be, on this trip. 

But as I said before, it was the little things that I found to be more impressive. A peep into an open doorway that revealed sunlight resting on spring blossoms, the relief in finding a place on a map that eluded you for hours (and several miles on foot), a sweet vegan treat in a vegetarian restaurant that you were told did not exist, a sparkly Chanel lipgloss, a new friend. 

These small moments cast in shadow the undesirable elements and are now my fondest memories of Paris. Would I tell a friend to visit? Or more importantly, would I return? Absolutely.