Bonjour de Paris!
I should begin by informing you that the French keyboard is the worst invention ever made and in order to type a single sentence it takes me dozens of frustrating backspacing...especially since the "Q" is where the "A" normally is...making it impossible to spell anything correctly without at least 5 or 6 errors first.
The french keyboard is an accurate description of my first few days in Paris by myself - frustrating, sometimes infuriating but with a little bit of patience, ultimately very rewarding. When it comes to ordering, taking the metro and trying to find much needed bandaids for my blistered feet (that's what walking 10 miles a day in flipflops down the hilly and cobbled streets of Paris will do to you) you often feel like the "q" is where the "a" is supposed to be.
I arrived in Paris at 6:45 in the morning to a very busy airport with a thousand signs in a language that I thought I knew fairly well, however due to lack of sleep and a growling stomach my brain refused to cooperate. Luckily, my friend Ludo picked me up from the airport and after catching the RER to Gare du Nord, I was finally in Paris.
The hotel I stayed in before moving into Le Foyer today was located in the 20th arrondissement on the top of a large hill looking into the city center of Paris. My room was on the 6th floor of the hotel with no elevator leaving very thin spiral staircases as my only option. It was everything short of glamorous - an old bed with a worn out wool blanket hardly even big enough to cover your feet (although the French do not believe in air conditioning therefore I never ended up needing the blanket in the first place.) However, it served its purpose well considering I only saw my bed for 3 to 4 hours each night anyways.
My first day in Paris was an uncharacteristically hot one - with a temperature of 98 degrees and a disgusting level of humidty. Regardless, I trucked along to all of the usual sightseeing places... la Tour Eiffel, l'Arc de Triomphe, Sacre Coure, Jardin du Luxembourg. After filling up my camera with the usual tourist photos, I began observing Paris and its people instead of its monuments.
There are a few things I have quickly learned about the French way of life:
Men in Paris like their women like their crepes...thin and perfectly browned (bronzed). The women of Paris are beyond elegant. They live off of cigarettes and dainty cafes...they dress themselves in silk chiffon and lace noir and they stroll along the streets knowing exactly how beautiful they are.
Although Paris is the fashion capitol of the world, there is no better accessory in Paris than a perfectly baked baguette. Slender women in their patent red leather stilettos, graying older men with their grisly faces, little children skipping down Rue du Moufftard...all carring their respective baguettes like its the newest fall fashion.
Privacy is an American invention - in Paris you share toilets, showers, rooms, sweat (thanks to an always overcrowded Metro). In Paris you share lovers, bottles of wine, baguettes, taxis and cigarettes. The only thing that isn't shared in Paris, or discussed for that matter is money because it is very hard to come by in such an expensive city. I am realizing very quickly that the reason why French women are so skinny is because it costs way too much to eat! Hence why most people in Paris only eat one meal a day (I can already feel my jeans fitting a little looser than they did a few days ago).
These past few days have been filled with amazing experiences and my favorite memories so far consist of getting lost on small side streets yet finding the most amazing food markets full of fromageries, boulangeries, pâtisseries, boucheries ... the food is endless. I also can't complain about the wonderful night I spent drinking a delicious bottle of wine in front of la Tour Eiffel watching it light up the Paris sky with the most dazzling lights, thousands of them twinkling, as if announcing very proudly they knew there was no sight more beautiful in the world (and they were right).
I have orientation beginning in an hour so I am going to take a cat nap before another long night in the city. Its hard to have an early night in Paris when bars, cafes and restaurants are open as late as 5 am and its equally hard knowing there is the most incredible 24 hour creperie only a few blocks away from where I'm staying.
I hope you all find reading about my adventures in Paris as thrilling as I find living them and I especially hope that one day you find the time to experience this incredible city for yourself because Paris truly is a moveable feast.
Jusqu'à la prochaine fois ... De Paris, avec l'amour.
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