Paris-Day 1

My first thought as I climb up the metro steps and surface on a street in Paris, "I can't believe I'm hot and its 30 degrees and raining. I'm sweating". We stop at a perfect pastry shop to ask for directions to our hotel and a kindly women in a clean brown apron points toward the left and nods and smiles at us. So we pull our luggage (mostly my luggage) in the direction she waved us. Its dark and raining. We reach the corner of the street quickly. We look left and see our hotel brightly welcoming us across the street. I turn to Dennis and say "that was easy to find" and behind him I see this.

And then I think, "Where do I go from here? What do you do when you have fulfilled your oldest dream?"

There is so much to absorb. I want to stand on the street and just stare. But the rain moves me toward our hotel. Crossing the cobblestone streets and splashing through puddles. Our hotel is modest and clean. Nothing fancy except for the wonderful bathtub with endless hot water and of course, the view. 

I just want to stand out on that balcony and soak in the moment. Why is this tower of metal and light so magical for me? I can't say, not even standing with her right there in front of me. But I can't take my eyes away and I never get tired of looking at her.  The train ride was lovely, traveling from Nice to Gare de Lyon. Everything is happening so fast. In the blink of my eyes the countryside of France has fled by the window and we arrived in the basement of Paris. Changing from the train to the Metro system was easy, just lots of stairs to climb and tunnels to navigate.  In what felt like a few quick heartbeats we are in our hotel room changing clothes and heading out for dinner. Can this be happening? I am in Paris. I really truly am. I feel like a silly little girl again. I can't stop smiling. In many ways the journey here to Paris took years, long sad years. It was my dream to see this place, to walk the streets and drink deeply of her history and romance. I hoped and dreamed it but never felt certain that it would ever happen. That's how dreams are, right? Elusive. Paris was the theme of every calender and yearly planner I bought, every picture I hung in my room, every movie I watched. Napoleon was my obsession. France was where I always wanted to be. 

And now, I am living in the South of France and I am walking on a street in Paris, with the lights of the city twinkling around me, holding the hand of the best man I have ever known, someone who truly loves me and speaks French. How did this happen? Don't wake me up.

2 more days

"Wanna pack your bags, something small...

take what you need and we'll disappear..

without a trace, we'll be gone, gone

the moon and the stars will follow the car.."

Or in our case, Follow the Train!  In 2 more days Dennis and I head North to Paris. What should we do? Where should we go??  There are countless ideas, of course. The challenge is to narrow it down to 3 days and nights and what we can actually manage to see and do.

A few thoughts we have, besides seeing Madame Eiffel at night, day and afternoon is to take a river boat tour down the Seine. Also walking from The Arche de Triomphe down The Champs-Elysees (the most beautiful street in the world). Of course, being that it is close to Christmas time, everything should be lit up even more than "the city of lights" is usually.

I'm having a hard time deciding what to do and where to go. Going for such a brief time feels impossible. I keep packing and repacking and unpacking my things. Mental notes are filling my head, as I try to remember which temperature it will be in each place I will be over the next few weeks and what shoes I will need.  Try as I have to avoid it, I'm planning on wearing sneakers in Paris. I know I know, its the worst of the worst but with my feet there simply is no alternative. Its sneakers in Paris or a wheelchair.

Anna is giving me that "its happening again" look.  She follows me closely throughout the apartment, right at my heals.  I feel like I am being to live up to the title "Worse Pet Owner" by leaving her, yet again. Hopefully once I leave, she won't remember until she sees me again. Funny how that works with animals. It is true that they don't miss us? Or do they just know how to hide it better.


I've downloaded a Paris guidebook (how modern of me) and I've made notes that I have stuck to Dennis' desk and my mirror..with names of places I can't pronounce. What is it going to be like? Visiting a place I've dreamed about since I was nine years old? Will I be disappointed?

Ready or not, City of Lights, here I come.