Coddiwomple: to travel in a purposeful manner towards a vague destination.
It's my favorite way to travel.
As a young girl I was obsessed with Paris. I had even decorated my room in the eiffel tower at one point. When I was 21 or so, I managed to go and ended up having an absolutely abysmal time. Since then, I have endeavored to come back and do it up right. So far, it has been a huge success.
Paris' color palette is pastels and creams. Then suddenly, a vibrant turquoise or red door will pop out at you. New York is built so high that you feel claustrophobic as people are quite literally on top of you. Paris is spread out and built low with everything rich and ancient. I can see why people think it is romantic. I myself am falling in love. With. My. Self.
Everything is easily walkable. Especially for a New Yorker. I haven't taken the Metro once as you really should see this place on foot. It also justifies all the bread and sugar you will be eating. I also appreciate that this is a place for taking your time. To-Go coffee is not really a thing. Nor should it be. Sit down, find an outdoor cafe, and have a cafe creme. Some cafes will put blankets on the chairs to keep warm or heaters overhead. Bottles of wine are being drunk in multitudes as you smell the mostly pleasant scents of the city. Fresh bread from the boulangerie on every corner, sweets from the pattiserie, cigarettes from the brooding men and women who look like wealthy hobos. It is quite frustrating how everyone looks like they aren't trying and yet most look effortlessly fashionable.
Parisiennes are quite kind and have responded to my out of practice french with encouraging smiles. I especially adore the elderly. When visiting the Cimitiere Pere lachaise, Katems (my biffle) and I were searching for Oscar Wilde's monument and clearly looked a little lost in the massive fields of gravestones. An old man, with cap over a mop of dyed hair, had a slim cigar between his teeth. He shuffled over to us and asked, "Vous cherche qui?" We told him who we were looking for and with a wisdom and confidence of a man who must come often, he began to give elaborate directions. A gauche here, a droit there. around the bend, behind something or other. Pretty soon he just shook his head and gestured with his lit cigar for us to follow him. We navigated around sepulchres and tip toed between graves. He pointed out Sarah Bernhardt's headstone, which we never would have found on our own. And finally, when we were close enough to Wilde's resting place, the old man gave us a nod and without ceremony wished us a good day. Kate wished she knew his story. Why did he know the cemetery so well? Was he visiting someone?
I find large old cemeteries beautiful and calming for some reason. In a large city, its also one of the places you can actually find quiet. I'm always looking for peace and silence. Its fascinating to see the largesse that the living dedicate to the dead. Stained glass windows and marble statues, in honor of people who will never see them. Then again, burial places are often to comfort the living, not the dead. We saw where Moliere and Jim Morrison ended up and I thought it was interesting that people of such reknown had such subtle tributes as opposed to some others who were not famous yet clearly overcompensating for something.
Kate and I spent a good deal of our first day walking through Le Marais, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Paris. I loved it there. Less touristy and full of character. Most of the stores were privately owned and not a food chain or Starbucks in sight. Some streets had easter egg colores facades and everything was clean by city standards. I found the most wonderful shop dedicated to stationery and calligraphie. It made me miss writing letters. The paper is the kind that soaks in the ink just right and they had the most beautiful quills and wax stamp kits. Knowing myself, I may just have to go back and purchase something as a souvenir. Perhaps it will inspire me to write again.
We had lunch at Biglove and had scrummy Pizza and blueberry french toast with clotted creams and comfiture while listening to the best 1990s r&b playlist. Then walked it off towards Notre Dame as the bells rang the hour and took a wee look at the bookstore Shakespeare & Co. We must have done at least 6 miles of walking, mostly along the Seine. All the while catching up with our lives and projects. Unconcerned with schedule or exact destination.
We ended the night with Kate having a chocolate chaud and I a rather nice large glass of red wine.
Today was more of a solo venture. Body aching from the day before, yet fully committed to seeing more, I walked to Sainte Chapelle and the Conciergerie. I am sucker for stained glass windows and you will never see better then Sainte Chapelle. Trust me on this one. At the Conciergerie I took in some revolutionary history and brushed up on Marie Antoinette as well as looking at some old relics. Then took to walking through Place de Vosges, Hotel de la ville, and the Louvre courtyard before crossing Pont Neuf and meeting Kate at one of my favorite Museums: the Musee D'orsay. The building itself used to be a train station and it is laid out in a way that you don't feel overstimulated by too much. I remembered being overwhelmed at the Louvre and even getting lost a few times. But at the D'orsay....it's so open. And they have a wonderful collection of Impressionism, my favorite. Renoir paints soft lines and light that I find flattering and calming. And I'm always interested in the facial expressions of the subjects; ranging from confidence to annoyance to apathy. The women are unapologetically curvy and voluptuous in a way that makes them so beautiful. I like how a lot of these painters see these women. It isn't objectified yet it's bold. It's a subtle yet important difference.
After that, our brains and bodies were fried and we trekked the long walk home. We knew a torrential rain was coming and we were doing our best to avoid getting caught in it. We walk through the Bastille roundabout, down the rue de Rivoli, and were but ten minutes from our flat when the skies opened up. Armed with two red umbrellas, as skipped over puddles and did our best not to be pushed over by the wind. My umbrella was turned inside out and I nearly hydroplaned on the cobblestones because, well, I am nothing if not graceful like a mountain goat. We made it to our studio, peeled out of our wet clothes and threw together a dinner and having a quiet evening in.
Things you must eat while in grand Paris:
1. Beignet Frambroise (raspberry donut) in the morning so it's fresh.
2. Crepes (both savoury and sweet. I recommend nutella for the sweet).
3. Falafel
4. WINE. all the wine.
5. Papillon cheese
6. Fresh baked bread and camembert
7. Pain au Chocolat with Cafe Creme
8. Croque Monsieur (or Madame)
9. Raclette
10. Kir Bleu (or Kir des dieux) which is an aperitif cocktail of champagne and blue curacao.
I've missed the language. I miss how much easier it used to come to me. But it has been lovely finding my way through it again. I find I can read it fairly well and after stuttering a bit on the accent, the speaking of it has improved. Both Kate and I even managed to give directions to people in french which put a little extra hitch in our giddyup. Understanding it when spoken is still my biggest challenge. But there have been times, like when I first arrived and the owner of our airbnb flat spoke that it was so fast that I didn't have time to hesitate. Suddenly I understood her quite well and answered immediately. So I know its still there somewhere in the back of my brain. I may take it up again though. It's soothing when listening to it.
Overall this has been an excellent trip thus far and I believe this is one of the few cities that I could keep coming back to. Just because I can.
