I've always felt at home in Paris. Each time has been something to remember and each time has left me wanting. You always forget how rude the French are but once you get past that, it becomes a place you want to fit into.
We check into our hotel after a delayed flight from Rome and a bit of bumbling about at the airport trying to find a phone that worked and an info area that actually gave info lol. We found our spot and also a lovely girl named Robyn from Brisbane who was happy like us to hear Australian voices.
The hotel manager who's a funny little round man was very friendly and gave us the rules of the place which we promptly ignored on the first night by trying to get Internet access after 1am which proved fruitless anyway - moreover by the rude night time reception guy who had no interest in trying to understand me anyway.
First day much like Rome, was splendid and easy to enjoy. The Eiffel tower is only ten minutes walk so we immediately head there taking photos along the way. It's bloody freezing though so the smell of hot chocolate, sausages with pomme fritte is too enticing to resist. 11 euro, hand it over.
Admiring the ET is easy, but I wanted to keep walking to show Annika something. Across the bridge over the river seinne we go to the place with the fountain gardens that I can never remember. Annika every two seconds asking where we're going. "stop" I say asking her if she remembers this place while I'm pointing to an area of grass in front of the bull statue that had her gobsmacked as a nine year old on our last visit when it was winter. At that time she'd crossed the frozen grass and was hysterical at the frozen grass cracking under her feet. No biggy but through a Childs eyes then it was bazaar. Annika immediately remembers and her eyes light up at the simple fond memories from this place which has this day drawn her back.
So, we're pretty tired and cold and begin to make our way back. Out of nowhere is a little street with cobbled stones, typical Paris buildings and the tower through the trees. What I see though is the allure of sensual Paris. Containing most prominently my other life which evades my heart and let's me know what remains true. So beautiful.. Yet cruel in it's ability to make you smile but only be left with desire.
It's a moment in time to share with only one.
The city of lights is always a bit bloody nice; a change of clothes gets us across the road to la terrasse. Super uber funky, very polite and just spot on. Lamb and crepes, yumm, we'll see you for dinner tomorrow night for more.
Let's go check out the tower lights says Anni.
June 10th, 2011:
It's Friday and today was spent simply resting. We went on a bus tour yesterday which brought us to the Louvre. The touristy thing was cook but you're majesty of the place with it's historical statue inhabitants and representations in paint overwhelm you with how much of a world there was before you. I still laugh at the fact that the mons lisa doesn't have eyebrows though.
Instead if catching the bus to Notre Dame we decide to walk. Albeit not to take in the sights but for my own personal motives in making a promise to which I wanted to share with another. She never knew until this day.
The Pont Des Arts, the bridge of lovers. A simple padlock, marked with the names of lovers locked into place on the bridge and sealed for all time by throwing the keys into the Seinne.
Notre Dame, dare I say it was beautiful but didn't hold a candle to the Immanuel monument cathedral in Rome.
Back on the bus and we go past all that is holy in the world to Annika surrounding the l'arc de triumph. And by that I mean teenage girl Mecca; Louis Vuitton, Cartier, blah blah etc. Too funny
The tour ends at Trocadero and we embrace yet another brisk stroll past the Eiffel back to our hotel. Loooong day.
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