So, Paris. The City of Lights. I only got to spend about 22 hours there, and I really wish I had scheduled myself some more. What an amazing place! Here is what I had time to do:
- Get on the Metro
- Go to Saint-Sulpice with the intention of visiting the church
- Wander around that general area instead
- Eventually reach the Seine
- Follow it to the Eiffel Tower
- Wait in line for tickets
- Go up into the tower
- Find a metro stop in the dark (not an experience I'd like to repeat)
- Check in at a hostel
- Discover bed has been slept in
- Get clean sheets and 10 euro discount from management
- Come downstairs and realize the hostel restaurant is really weird and no one will help me even if I look lost
- Finally walk up to the bar, order a virgin colada, and discover that the kitchen is closed
- Buy some potato chips from a vending machine for my first Parisian dinner
- Go to sleep
- Wake up
- Pack up
- Eat breakfast (baguette and not-Nutella/strawberry jam)
- Walk to the metro
- Get out by the Louvre
- Walk up the Champs-Elysées to the Arc de Triomphe
- Get on the metro
- Buy a sandwich
- Wait for my train
I have to wonder, though, is there something about me that just screams American? Of the people that spoke to me while I was in Paris, I would say at least three-quarters of them tried English first. I realize my French is far from perfect, and I probably looked like a tourist, but I do know enough French to hold a simple conversation! On the other hand, when I was walking to the Eiffel Tower, some weird guy who looked about 40 or so came up to me and asked in French if I was German. I told him (also in French) I was in fact American, and he proceeded to ask me a bunch of odd questions, ending with an invitation to have a coffee with him. I told him I was meeting my boyfriend and high-tailed it out of there. God, I hope I haven't tempted fate by claiming nonexistent boyfriend immunity. I do want to have a boyfriend eventually. I just don't want him to be, you know, a creepy fortysomething guy on the street. Also a street vendor told me that I was très belle, which was nice, but would have been nicer had he not just aggressively tried to sell me a miniature Eiffel Tower seconds beforehand.
The Eiffel Tower was great, by the way. Not only did I get a great workout (those stairs are intense - I don't know if my legs will ever forgive me), but the view really is incredible. I always forget that I'm mildly afraid of heights until I'm actually high up, which meant I was a little frightened the entire time I was up there, but I still loved being there. The summit is super scary, though; you take this long elevator ride from the second level, and some of the walls are see-through, so I got to see the city of Paris getting smaller and smaller below me as we climbed higher and higher. I may or may not have felt slightly nauseous, especially as when I got to the landing I saw lots of people sticking their cameras between the gaps to take pictures and I was petrified that someone would drop theirs. My hands are sweating just thinking about it. I didn't want to get close to the edge because I was afraid my glasses would fall off and shatter. No way did I put my camera anywhere near those gaps.
All in all, I think it was a successful, if far too short, visit. It was beautiful, the attractions were amazing, and I'm utterly exhausted. Good night.
