Paris

After a train ride that lasted from 5pm to 7:30am, that spanned southern Spain to northern France and that meant very little in the way of food and even less in the way of sleep, we arrived à Paris before light. And by deciding to set out on discovering Paris before finding a place to sleep, eat or orientate ourselves, we made one of the best decisions of the trip.

Consequently, Paris was a whirlwind.
We eventually discovered where we were and where we wanted to go by using the maps located on the back of bus stops. They were brilliantly marked with vous etes ici (you are here), unlike Spanish maps. Something I never thought I might take for granted.

Paris, like most major cities in Europe I have explored, is walkable if you are willing to seriously walk. Of course, there are tourist bus routes and metros, but neither Robyn nor I have a problem with walking --and take my word for it, by walking you get a better feel for the destination than you will on any tourist bus no matter how charismatic or informative the tour guide.

We came across Notre Dame by early dawn. The cathedral itself is beautiful without taking into account the pinkish hue that was descending on the city and la Seine. And from there, we continued to walk on.

To name a few, (and the ones readers and I most recognized):
- le sacre coeur
- le Louvre
- le Musee d´orsay
- le Arc de Triomphe (similar to the Arc de Triomf in Barcelona, both giant arcs looking very triumphant)
- des Champs d´Elysees, which is one reason why Paris has earned a name for fashion. For the fashionistas reading, Louis Vitton is its own building rivalling some of the most luxurious and imporant buildings I´ve seen on my journies...and it has its own flag.
- and of course, le tour Eiffel, as it is known in France.

The Eiffel Tower was my greatest expectation for Paris. At first, however, I was disappointed because the tower barely pokes above the Paris skyline, and only once you are quite close to it. To be honest, in appearance, it isn´t nearly as majestic or romantic as it is made out to be.

It isn´t until I was standing, as we so tactfully described it, under the skirt (and that was the most tactful of all the descriptions we spent five minutes coming up with) of the Eiffel Tower that I experienced it in any romantic way.

To put it as straightforward and honest as possible, it´s very industrial. It isn´t the clean lines of stone and marble. It´s greyish brown. It isn´t THAT big. But then, sitting beneath it, you realize what it symbolizes. And of course, sitting beneath, it feels THAT big. In an odd turn of events though, the Eiffel Tower was my favourite part of Paris, possibly because it wasn´t as impressive and amazing as everything else was. It won my heart, in some bizarre unepected-underdog sort of way.

It is difficult to explain, in any believable or accurate way, that the Eiffel Tower is the underdog of Paris. But it is, or was for me.

Some other unexpected discoveries and/or confirmations re: Paris --

- the French are not exclusiely as snobbish as they are made out to be.

In fact, almost all of the people we encountered were charmingly patient and accepting of our miserable attempts to converse en français. But, we were smart enough to avoid even approaching certain Parisians, case in point: the doorman of Louis Vitton who looked like someone out of the secret service/ someone with the importance of the Queen/ someone who considered himself with as much disillusioned grandiosity of celebirty as someone like Paris Hilton.

- Paris is very tourist-friendly, however, it´s fair to point out that those tourists it has in mind are of the financially-well-endowed kind. But essentially, by tourist-friendly I mean that a map isn´t absolutely necessary and there are plenty of signs that are decipherable regardless of what language you speak.

- the French really know coffee. I had three cups of cafe au lait during my time in France. They were the three best cups of coffee I have ever had. From the hole-in-the-wall concession-like stand in the hole-in-the-wall train station in Ceberre (on the way to Paris) to the expensive Cafe Austerlitz, each one was like a cup of caffeine heaven.

But don´t get me wrong: Tim Horton´s will forever have a place in my heart, and I think I actually ran into the Starbucks we came across whilw lost somewhere in the middle of non-tourist area Barcelona. But, kudos to authenticity. If I could have three wishes for every coffee-lover one of them would be that they all had the chance to stand au bar avec un cafe au lait à Paris just once.

- there is a very visible securty presence in Paris, in the way of armed guards patrolling certain destinations, like the Eiffel Tower, and train stations.

- Paris is less crowded than London, and you get a feel for Parisians and that they might actually live in the city. In London, if you manage to speak with someone who isn´t a tourist, then you will be hard-pressed to find someone originally from London and who isn´t just working there for a short period of time.

- French men really do possess a certain je ne sais quoi, at least from arm´s length away--as do the equally coiffed, preened and perfected French women on their arms. Now, granted I am backpacking and I am certainly attaining l´air de backpacker with success, I think even at my most scrubbed-clean, put together and presentable state I might just catch the eye of a French construction worker.

So Paris: Robyn and I put in several (nearly twelve) hours of walking. We rested once for about half an hour beneath the Eiffel Tower. But it was worth it. We experienced Paris all at once, like a long movie reel of amazing sites that were strangely familiar. And once we were done, we decided to move on.

They say that Rome wasn´t built in a day, and obviously neither was Paris. And although I could and plan to spend days on end in Paris--still never discovering or experiencing everything it has to offer, I am glad my virgin experience of that city was what it was:

One entire day, from dawn to dusk, of seeing the city as it unfolded before me on foot. We walked into and out of that city like travellers who find a mirage in the middle of a desert, except that it all proved to be real.

It is difficult to explain the experience accurately because describing one day in Paris obviously seems about several days short of what that city would require. But I don´t have any regrets about Paris.

We got on a train at 11pm headed for Madrid, scheduled to arrive sixteen hours later.
Au revoir Paris. À la prochaine.