Paris. My first international experience. (Aside from one 17 hour layover in Canada back in August. I ate bad Chinese food in the strip mall next to my hotel and got charged an extra few cents for being outside US lines. Pfffff.) My first real international experience. Ahhh, and the famed French capital did not disappoint. Figured I needed to get this blog out pronto as I’m already back at the airport, waiting out a break between flights until it’s off to my next overseas adventure.
The sun setting over the States. Au revoir, America!
You could tell that the occupant in seat 2b was pretty new to the Business Class game. She photographed every single dish that was put in front of her for dinner, and when they came by with the dessert cart and was asked how she’d like her ice cream dressed, with large eyes she responded, “I’ll take everything on top!”
With all the other luxuries that my Business Class bestowed upon me, I was half expecting a Jacuzzi tub to for me to loll about in. Not so. It’s just as small as in a 50 seater regional jet.
My first view of Paris was magical. It was 8am on a Sunday morning. The sun had just risen, although the sleepy residents of the city had not yet stepped out onto their streets. All was quiet as I ascending the stairs from the metro onto this.
Sacre Coeur. My bushel of grapes and me wandering around the city the first day stopped here to light a candle and take in the view of the city.
Is it possible that the city is more beautiful in the middle of the night during a rain shower?
Oh, you know. Just having a laugh at the Eiffel Tower.
One of my dearest memories of my whirlwind adventure was stopping in a cafe to order my coffee. In French.
Day two was largely spent roaming the streets adjacent to the Eiffel looking for the perfect place to photo shoot in Grandma’s lace dress. Finally as the sun was going down, and time was going out, I spied with my little eye a restaurant river boat that was setting up for the dinner hour. I rushed onboard, batted my American eyelashes as best I could, and after much hesitation I was granted UN MINUTE from the monsieur in charge. “Merci, merci, merci!”
At the rail of the former home of Madame de Brinvilliers: a woman who in the 1600′s, poisoned her husband so she could leave him without divorce and then later her family so she could inherit their estates. Eventually she was burned at the stake. Preeeetty intense, eh?
The stained glass at Notre Dame was the most beautiful I have ever seen.
Can I confess a secret to you? I fell asleep in church. Yes, that church happens to be the grand Notre Dame Cathedral. (I averaged 4 hours of sleep per night, give me a break!) While sitting in the pews, I figured I could take in a quick bit of shut eye and no one would think I was doing anything other than praying. I woke to the congregation standing around me. Mass had started. And it was fantastic. I got to sing French hymns in one of the most beautiful and celebrated cathedrals in the world. (Although not too loudly–my accent is rather dreadful. )
Stay tuned for more to come soon of my next trip… we’re about to start boarding.
PS: “Je suis perdu” = I am lost. My most used phrase in Paris.