This is a long delayed post. I couldn't get over the hang ups of how to describe the city of love. The city that is always described, that you feel like you know even before you step onto it's streets and yet you are blown away because you feel everything that has been told to you over the years.
You walk through the streets, spotting the Metropolitan signs, the bakeries, the french people sitting outside, with coffee and cigarette in hand, speaking a mile a minute and you forget everything else. Paris seems unique in the world that's becoming a copy of a copy of a copy. Everywhere you go you can find the same things, you see a photo of Cambodia and you swear it's actually Thailand, that you've been there.
Paris lives up to everything. Then blows it away. You walk down the streets carrying a Baguette, trying to remember your french, wanting to feel submerged in the city rather than another tourist brought on my the mystique and magic feelings of Paris.
It's perfection, expensive, changing, immortal, ancient, modern and you fall in love instantly. You can't believe you are there. You're inside the Louvre, looking at the most beautiful statues when it starts snowing outside. It fills you with love, hope, promise.
You wind down the streets of Momontre, wanting to be swallowed whole by the city, planning the next time you'll come. Knowing you'd love to be here for a honey moon, as unoriginal it is, the city is drawing you in, entrapping you with it's illustriously seductive grasp.
Paris has hold of your heart. It's only been one day.
It snows when we're in the Louvre. It's more special, more amazing. SNOW IN PARIS! We yell, snapping a thousand photos. Wanting to be part of the city, but taking in every moment with our cameras, the tourists like the city has seen before us. We revel at the shirtless flame throwing man near Notre Dame, as we bundle up in scarves and gloves, freezing in the barely there snow.
We feel illuminated by the culture, saying outlandish things.
"If i were to get married in a church, it would be this (Notre Dame) one because of that window"
You're infatuated by the city already, the allure of the past, the promise of the future. Looking forward to Sacre Coure, Paris souvenirs, Musse D'Orsay, the shopping, macarrons and Arch of Triumph.
You walk past Champs D'Elises and travel through the christmas market stalls, getting hot cider, over priced crepe, buying french tea and imagining the perfection of the city year round. Missing it while you stand on it's streets adorned with the most beautiful balconies, that define the city and it's over powering lure.
You opt out of going to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Telling yourself you'll do that when you come back with loved ones. What's the fun of standing at the tower alone, asking tourists to take photos of you? When you wish you could pretend you're not a tourist. You don't want to acknowledge the other ones. You want to get lost in the city, throw away your map, have perfect french over night and get swallowed by the city. Who would miss you?
Vincent and Veronyka: A trip into the Museums of Paris.
Very Versailles: Japanese art invades the castle.