Falling in love...

“La Ville-Lumiere” translated from French into English means, The City of Lights.  Paris was originally called La Ville-Lumiere due to its desire to fill itself with more and more scholars.  Now, the name is often used to describe the dazzling street lights that illuminate the city each and every night.

The basketball conference that I play in is made up of 15 teams, which means that every weekend there is a team who finds themselves without a game.  This past week was our turn for a free weekend.  Our coaches held practice on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and then proceeded to grant us 4 priceless days of freedom.  Sarah and I had known about this weekend for quite some time and so several months back we made reservations that would take us to, La Ville-Lumiere.

I have been thinking about this e-mail all morning and have kept putting it off and putting it off because the mere thought of writing it has me feeling quite timid and unsure where to begin.  The journey of life is an unbelievably  magnificent road that tends to lead us through landscapes that we never thought possible.  Landscapes that are teeming with colors so bright and abundant that tears of joy and thankfulness wet my cheeks as I allow my mind to wander through the landscapes of late.
 
Sarah, Mary (Sarah’s sister), and I boarded the 7:20am flight from Madrid to Paris on Thursday morning.  Upon arriving in Paris’s Charles de Gaulle airport, we purchased our train tickets and plunged head first into Paris’s public transport.  I was destined for district number 19 while Sarah and Mary were going to a small town just one hour and a half outside of Paris.  We shared a couple hugs, wished each other luck and headed our separate ways.
 
The Paris metro system is a twinge different than Madrid’s, the biggest difference for me being the modernity of Madrid and the antiquity of Paris.  At times as we were rumbling through the dark underground tunnels I felt like I was Marty McFly traveling through time with Dr. Emmet “Doc” Brown.  I exited the metro at a stop called Juares, wrapped my scarf around my neck one more time and sifted through the streets a bit until I found my hostel.  Taking the essentials with me (camera, money, I.D) I pocketed a map of the city and headed out into the cold.  I must be losing my tough, MN skin because if I stood still for more than a few minutes my teeth would start to chatter and my shoulders would do a little jive all of their own.  Meanwhile, the resilient Parisians would pass me on their bicycles without hats or mittens.
 
I am not quite sure how many miles I put on my boots during this first day, but I would bet that the number was around 10.  Of course I could have played the part of McFly all day, but the streets of Paris are not to be missed.  My first thoughts as I explored the cobble stone roads were of the 1970’s film, Bedknobs and Broomsticks.  B and B is actually filmed partly in London and not in Paris but the old, foggy streets of Paris put me smack dab in the middle of Carrie, Paul and Charlie as they road their magical bed through London.  As I walked along I took in such sites as Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Invalides museum, the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel tower and the Pantheon. 

Standing with Notre Dame in the background.

At the Louvre.

During my journey my body ordered me to duck into two different cafes so that the coffee and hot chocolate (that I spent 5 euros on) would have a chance to warm me up.  My favorite part of this day was perhaps my night walk along the Seine river.  The street lamps lighted my path as I strolled along amongst the fashionable French.  The river ran by me on my left while the exquisite collector’s items of Paris’s luxurious shops sat still on my right, looking out at me from behind their protective glass walls.  Each and every shop was tastefully setup with the most lavish furniture, paintings, sculptors, rugs, armor, and glass ware.  As I walked along, enjoying the peaceful quietness of my own thoughts, I realized something that I had not thought possible before.  I realized that I actually enjoyed traveling by myself.  Perhaps a full week of solidarity would be too much, but a long weekend would be just fine.  After hours of walking I arrived at my hostel, took a long hot shower, and fell joyously into my bed.
 

Exquisite bridges in Paris.

Day 2 was spent in the same way as day one except that I now had the company of Sarah and Mary.  The biggest event on our agenda was the Louvre, the most visited museum in the world.  The main attraction being the Mona Lisa.  Now, I do not want to down play Leonardo da Vinci’s work of art and I am sure that if I knew more about the intricacies of painting and the history of the piece that I would appreciate it more, but to say the least, I was a bit shocked to find it as small as it was.  The painting hangs all by itself on it’s very own wall and is only 31 inches by 21 inches, more of a postage stamp compared with the other paintings in the room.  The other works of art that I enjoyed were The Winged Victory of Samothrace (which is a sculpture of the greek goddess, Nike, which means victory) and St. Sebastian the Patron Saint of Athletes.
 

Sarah and I at the Louvre.

Hey, Lisa!

Nice park job, Smart Car.

The next two days were perhaps the busiest of the trip.  During a study abroad semester in St. Petersburg, Russia, Mary became friends with a guy named, Tangy, who is from France.  Tangy came to visit and stood in as our own personal tour guide for the rest of the trip.  He educated the three of us on anything and everything.  I do have to say, however, that my favorite part about having a local show us around was the fact that he knew of all the good places to eat!  One particular bakery (pastelleria) that he took us to was literally out of this world.  I felt as if I was a character in the movie, Willy Wonka.  Splashes of pinks, yellows and purples graced the walls.  The glass cases were sparkling, spotless and filled with the most beautiful looking breads and treats a sweet tooth such as myself could imagine.  Pastellerias such as this are my definition of happiness. 
 

Gotta love the bakeries!

Our last night of the trip was Sunday, Valentines Day.  Following our thirty minute photo shoot in-front of the Eiffel tower, we browsed the shops on one of the most famous streets in the world, Champs-Elysees.  Renting an apartment on this street can cost as much as 1.5 million per 1,000 square feet, gulp.  Champs-Elysees is the most expensive stretch of real estate in Europe.  From the glitzy glam of Champs, we headed to a neighborhood that embodied a much slower pace.  Montmartre is a neighborhood located on a hill in the north of Paris and is also commonly referred to as the Painter’s Neighborhood.  Painters such as Salvador Dali, Vincent van Gogh and Pablo Picasso had studios or worked around the area.  

Moulin Rouge!

Even though it was quite chilly outside, there were several artists setup in the plaza drawing caricatures of tourists.  We walked around a bit and took in the sites of the church, Basilica  of the Sacre Coeur (sacred heart).  This church was rather fetching.  Made from Travertine stone that is constantly exuding calcite, the church remains a sparkling white even when fighting against the test of time and the pollution of the city.  The view of La Ville-Lumiere from the top of the hill is just charming.  We then popped into one of the restaurants near the plaza and ordered a few desserts in celebration of our last night in Paris.  The restaurant was enchanting.  Warm shades of orange and red covered the walls and a trio of men sat just one table behind us, each playing a different form of guitar. 

The church of Sacred Heart.

I could have sat there for hours, watching their fingers making fast work of their strings and taking in the pure bliss of their faces as they respected each others musical talents.  One woman rose from her table, approached the men and then proceeded to stand in-front of them and sing a most lovely french song while they provided the harmony.  The night before I was in a Greek restaurant and there was also a group of men playing similar instruments but with a greek flare.  Once again a woman stood up and decided to sing along with the music.  This is one of the many reasons why I cherish Europe.  People are without embarrassment in matters of song and dance.  If someone wants to sing or dance they will and the surrounding spectators will watch, clap and appreciate the beauty of the act.  

After a mouthwatering, crepe fatigue started to settle in and we started the journey back to the hostel.  Of course we did make one more stop.  On the way down the hill, we entered into the red light district of Paris where we took several pictures in-front of the Moulin Rouge. 

The next morning Sarah and I took off for one airport while Mary headed for another.  Our metro ride back to Charles de Gaulle was just barely without problems.  After one transfer we boarded another train and just seconds before the door closed we heard a man ask if this train went to the airport and the response was a definite, NO.  We quickly scurried off the train just in time (sigh). 

Now I am sitting in my kitchen in Madrid and thinking about Paris.  What a wonderfully magical city it is.  I was initially a bit nervous to go because I was worried about the language barrier.  There is that leering stereotype that the French are stuck-up and rude to those who do not speak their language.  Well, I can honestly say that everyone was decent towards me and not once gave me the cold shoulder.  I would love to travel back some day during any of the other three seasons. 

Leslie’s Loose Ends:

 In terms of endearment, people in Spain will call each other, Melons. For example, “digame, mi melon de jamon.”  This means, “Tell me, my melon of ham.”

 In many of the parks in Spain you will find stations specifically meant for the benefit of elders.  What I mean is that there will be seats with pedals in-front of them for stationary biking, or big wheels with handles to maintain good arm movements and things such as these.  I went for a walk in Retiro park the other day and actually saw a handful of people using these stations.  I think it’s a great idea.

 I met two people from New York in Paris and they both told me that I had a strong Minnesotan accent.  Truth hurts, don’t cha know.
 
 Valentines day is not celebrated in Europe between friends like it is in the U.S. The day is more specifically just for couples, however, many couples do not celebrate the day either because they feel it is too commercial.  Love should be expressed when you want to show it, not when someone is telling you to.
 
Protests are very common in Paris.  I witnessed a mad scramble of police and protesters in-front of Notre Dame.  It was all rather scary and I did not know whether I should hit the deck or hide behind a statue.

Eiffel Tower!

The Chinese New Year was being celebrated while we were there.  Red Lanterns hung from lamp posts and dragons were being paraded down the streets. 

The Chinese New Year was also taking place.

Ok messieurs et mesdames (ok, ladies and gentlemen)! Sorry this e-mail was so short, but I fell in LOVE with Paris!!!  Have a wonderful week.
love,
Leslie