Paris, Day One

This is actually the third time I've been to Paris. Well, 3 not counting just passing through airports and train stations in Paris en route to somewhere else.

The first time was in 2004. I was 22, taking a little weekend trip with my roommate while studying abroad in Spain, and I had a fleeting romance (if you could call it that) with the tour guide. That was before I could speak French. The second time was in 2008. It was the summer before I started grad school full time, and I had spent a month in Salamanca, Spain doing a summer program with my university. On the way back to the States, our group stopped over in Paris for the weekend. I still didn't speak any French back then either.

I was thinking on the train how terrible yet easy it is to take things for granted. I've been before, so it's easy to kind of shrug my shoulders about it. Some classmates asked what I was doing for the break. "Oh, I'm just going to Paris. Pas grand chose." I had to think about that. Just going to Paris? We're students in France, most of whom have been here for a while, so everyone's gone to Paris. At least to the Charles de Gaulle airport, if nothing else. That shouldn't make it any less exciting or special. But that's what happens when you take things for granted.

I've already done the touristy stuff. Louvre, Champs-Elysee, gone to the top of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. I wanted to do some different stuff this time. I did a lot of walking, exploring and reminiscing. This movie, Sabrina, is what made me first want to go to Paris. I love this clip. "I met myself in Paris." It was kind of my state of mind today.

On my way to check into my hotel, I listened to an impromptu strings concert on the street. When I checked in, the concierge said he adored my American accent. I went to the plaza around the Centre Georges Pompidou to get a Nutella crepe and watch the street performers, aspring artists, and crazies. A crowd gathered around this old, cuckoo man who was lighting matches and eating them. A little curly headed boy ate a crepe and had chocolate all over his face. A lithe man juggled crystal balls. I took a walking tour of Montmartre and took a picture of the cafe where Amelie worked, Le cafe des 2 moulins. I saw a troupe of b-boyers hyping up their show with broken English. I had another crepe for dinner. Ham, cheese and mushrooms. A man sang Arabic love songs accompanied by a tinny Casio keyboard on the metro. I walked under the Eiffel tower and simply shook my head to vendors who were trying to pressure me into buying one of those cheap mini-Eiffel towers. I bought one of those the first time.

More fun tomorrow.