I arrived in Paris on the afternoon of September 4 and was met at the studio I rented by the host, Sophie. She was great! She gave me a quick tour of the neighborhood and dropped several recommendations, which saved me so much time and helped me get my bearings. It was a gorgeous day, if a bit hot, but I was just thrilled to be there! If you're ever traveling to Paris and want to experience the city like a local, I would recommend Sophie's place. Here's the airbnb link, if you're interested:
Paris Studio
It is not luxury accommodations by any means, but it is cute and comfy, and the location is terrific. It's in a primarily residential neighborhood, so it's very quiet at night, surprisingly so for a big city. It is also close to 3 very convenient Metro stations: Pasteur, Duroc, and Faugliere. I started all my trips from Pasteur because it was closest and very easy to navigate, and the longest it took me to get anywhere was the crosstown trip to Canal St. Martin, and that was only 45 minutes.
And did I mention it has a great view of the Eiffel Tower? Because it does! I took all of these from the very adorable balcony:
I learned from Sophie that the tower lights up each night on the hour at dark, then sparkles at the top of each hour until 1 AM, at which time they turn off the background light, then let her sparkle for a bit before she goes. It's such a beautiful spectacle, I can't believe I left without making a video of it, but here's a link if you'd like to see the difference. It's much better quality than I would have gotten, so there's that.
I visited Paris once before, but due to becoming ensorcelled by the charms of the Loire Valley (which we'll visit shortly), I ended up spending only 3 short days in the City of Light. One of the goals of this trip was to do the stuff I didn't get to do the first time around, and in that spirit, I headed off to the Centre Pompidou to take in some modern art.
Modern art is not really my thing, though I liked more stuff than I thought I would. Not going to lie, some of the pieces -- like the blank canvases and the bundles of sticks leaned against the wall -- made me question both the tastes and qualifications of the Pompidou's curators, but I am no art connoisseur. The building, however, is quite cool, even if the glass tubes housing the escalators that transport you up to the exhibits made me feel like a bug under a magnifying glass on such a hot day. Again, I didn't get any pictures (I am really bad at remembering to take photos sometimes), but here's an exterior shot, complete with hamster tubes:
Though not so enamored of the art, there was a courtyard at the top that had amazing views of the city, and I did manage to get a couple photographs there. Go, me! Sacre Coeur in the distance -- we will get to that later!
After taking in some questionable art and lovely views, I wandered over to Notre Dame to see how things looked after the fire. It felt wrong to take photos of her all draped in tarps and flanked by cranes, but it was good to see that they are hard at work getting her back to her usual self.
I feel so fortunate to have visited the cathedral the first time I was in Paris. I am not religious in the slightest, but if there is a higher power or holy presence or magic or whatever, I felt it inside Notre Dame. Every moment of her history seemed to linger still in the air of the knave, and the stained glass windows are awesome in the most literal sense of the word.
I also took a snap of (and from) Pont Neuf, the first bridge in Paris constructed with no houses along both sides. It is also the oldest standing bridge in the city, having been built between 1578 and 1607 -- let your head wrap around that for a moment!
I was knackered from the flight, but it felt like a good start to the trip. So I headed back to the studio and stopped at the Casino supermarket on the way, a cursed place that I will never visit again. Every single time I went there, something went wrong at the register, and though I studied French for about 5 years in school and then spent the last year using Duo every single damn day, I couldn't understand anything anyone said to me. The employees were extremely kind (minus the one guy who just kept pointing to the back of the store and shouting "La-bas! La-bas!" at me), but after the third traumatic visit, I started walking a little farther to the Monoprix or the Franprix to avoid it altogether; and, I would like to report, I had no issues at either place.
Pro tip for future travelers -- the French version of a four cheese pizza includes blue cheese/gorgonzola. I might have noticed the stank before I took that first bite had I not been so hungry, but as it was, I did not, and it was a most unwelcome surprise. If I wanted Andre the Giant's toe cheese on my pizza, I would have let you know, France. Seriously.
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