Sorry to Sound Like A Babbling Fool in Love, But Paris Je T'aime...

As I write this I am on the train heading to Normandy to reunite with my childhood friends (that I haven’t seen in exactly 3 years!). It is such a wonderful thing to go back to the town that built you, with the people that you will never lose touch with.

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The past 36 hours have been back breaking (with a total of 160 pounds/ 70kg of luggage that term has quite a literal connotation here). A whirlwind of emotions along with a lack of sleep have made me want to both jump off one of Paris’s glorious bridges into the Seine and die AND jump into the Seine and have a glorious victory swim. Considering the freezing temperatures though I have opted for neither.

I set out from my grandparents’ beautiful house at 5am yesterday, and didn’t arrive at my hotel that night until 9pm. I had a driver drive me to the airport where I connected from Isle of Man to Manchester to Dusseldorf to Paris. Boy was that an unnecessarily long flight.

Image from Djibnet.com

See as you fly into Paris the countryside is quite boring, there is no glamorous view to be seen upon descent (unlike San Diego’s beautiful airport-I know, I know-nostalgic much?!). When you touch down into Charles de Gaulle airport the first thing you notice is the gigantic circular grey building that is the terminal. Meant to look futuristic at the time of completion, it now looks like it belongs on the set of “District 9.” Everything seems slightly bleak. But you get off the plane and a sudden gaiety engulfs you. A smile begins that you simply can’t stop or even hide. The Parisians and French around you just shake their head at yet another tourist excited to play pretend in their city for the first time.

Image from Djibnet.com

To me though it isn’t just the prospect of playing pretend in Paris, it is the reality of being in France. All the messages over the intercoms in French, the signs and posters in French, that alone gives me an unwarranted happiness. You leave the gates and walk into that marvelous tunnel and now you give into their futuristic vision simply because you feel you have found your future. Classic 50s French music plays as you go down the up the moving walkway. You imagine someone selecting the songs out of their vinyl collection and placing it on a giant phonograph to be played throughout the city. Then all of a sudden you’re outside in the French air smoking. You’ve done it. You’ve made it across the world and are now living and breathing the Parisian air.

But that beautiful vision soon faded as I picked up all my suitcases and realized I had to lug it across town to Cergy (where my school is) and I had no idea how to get there. After much difficulty of going up stairs onto the inter-terminal tram and then through the station to the bus, I could breathe easy for a while. By the way whoever says Parisians are a**holes can go tell that to the dozen or so people who helped me transport my suitcases at points where I simply could not manage. Not a single person was mean or hostile- even when I asked for directions someplace while standing under a sign pointing exactly to where it was. So for this, kind Parisian strangers, I thank you for your patience.

The battle was only half won when I got lost roaming around Cergy for 45mins (stairs, stairs and more stairs! Have you no handicap laws France?!!).

Once I made it to the hotel room I just threw my bags onto the bed and walked right back out to a Turkish restaurant I had seen while lost. See French doner kebab is unlike anything you can find elsewhere- not going to lie it is even better than in Turkey! So I went in and placed an order in Turkish to a kind old man. He brought me Ayran (Turkish yogurt drink) and tea after my meal, all compliments of the house. The old men were watching a soccer/football game on TV of my favourite Turkish team. Funny how I found comfort in Turkey in my first night here in France.

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The next day dropping off my luggage to the residences proved just as difficult. Luckily getting lost in the day is a lot less daunting than at night. With my bags taken care of till my move-in date, I grabbed my big backpack and headed to Paris to catch the train. I can’t tell you the joy I felt reuniting with my dear friend Pain au Raisin (Raisin pastry for the non-Francophiles in here).

As I enjoyed my breakfast of a pastry, coffee and cigarette while reading a French magazine, I turned and looked at the writing on the wall of the train station. That moment of fate validating my actions.

"Que servirait a un homme de gagner le monde entier si il en perdait son  Âme?"
(For what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the entire world yet lose his own soul)

The exact words of my tattoo, written there in a random part of the train station on my first day.

I realized that the answer to my looming question of the past few months of “Is it really worth all that hassle?” was “Yes, yes indeed!” I realized I wouldn’t have given up this dream for anything or anyone.

I am just now slowly realizing that I have no idea where or what I want to be when I grow up. All I know is I’m having a hell of a time figuring it out.

Until next time my loves.

Au revoir!