The Top Floor Flat

Paris was spectacular. I highly recommend to everyone that at some point in your life you travel to a city you don’t know, on your own, not knowing the language. It’s quite a rush and although at times I was stressed or nervous or just a bit lonely, none of those feelings could last for long in Paris and the feeling of accomplishment and freedom was indescribable.

To start off on Monday morning, I took the Eurostar train from London to Paris. For those of you who haven’t traveled from London to Paris lately, it may be a bit of a surprise that this trip is now so easy. Two hours after boarding the train in London, I had arrived (and in fact they’ve just added two more trains that run at 220 mph to the route so you could make it in even less time). Upon arriving, I grabbed my caret of tickets (billets) and with relatively little incident, made it to my predetermined metro stop in order to check into the hotel and dash off for the Rodin museum (planned stop one for my Paris trip). What I didn’t count on, however, was exactly how turned around I would get once above ground. After about an hour of increasingly panicked wandering (with my 30lb backpack on my back with all my belongings) it occurred to me that I still had the number of the hotel in my phone and called them to confirm the address. Of course, I had been in the right place all along and just hadn’t seen them. It was with some relief that I tossed my belongings down and simply admired the Parisian view from the window.

Having already lost much of the time, inclination and nerve necessary to make the walk across town to the museum I decided instead on a walk down the Seine which, for the most part, wouldn’t get me lost. I spent most of the evening making my way from the Bastille (where I was staying) to the small islands in the river, past the Louvre and through the parks. I had regained my confidence throughout the walk although up until that point I hadn’t had to speak to anyone. But it was nearing the end of the day and I was getting hungry. With an oath to myself that I would absolutely not, under no circumstance would I eat at an American fast food joint, I set out to find a meal.

This proved exceptionally more difficult that I had anticipated. After another hour and a half of wandering past expensive restaurants with fois gras and escargot, snooty-looking waiters and lots and lots of people speaking French, I finally found myself at a café that looked like a place where I could at the very least get a sandwich. I quickly ordered a glass of wine and was told in both French and English in no uncertain terms that I would be woefully uncultured if I didn’t order a cheese platter which arrived so afterwards with a baguette and a smelly (but delicious) assortment of cheeses. While not exactly what I had expected for dinner, it did fill me up, make me feel quite as if I had a proper French meal (which I probably didn’t) and get me back to the hotel where I had an early night with the promise of an tour in English and at least one meal covered for the next day.

Tuesday dawned clear which was a relief as I was off to Paris by Bike tour which was absolutely the highlight of my trip. I understand completely why this tour is ranked as the number one attraction in Paris by TripAdvisor.com users as it was not only a wonderful guide to the city, its sites and history but it also recommended cafes and restaurants along the way, familiarised me with the streets I would use most often during my week stay, and had some of the most friendly guides I could imagine. Perhaps my favourite moment on the tour was when we paused on the bikes to look at a beautiful old house that used to be a private palatial home in the center of Paris. Our attention was then directed to a small cannon ball, almost out of sight, that was lodged in the wall of the home from when rioting revolutionaries had stormed the city.

The tour lasted through the morning and into midday and by the end of the tour at 3pm I felt ready to take on the city. I might not know any French but at least I could find my way from my hotel to the place where most everyone spoke English. The Louvre is closed on Tuesdays so I crossed the river to visit the Musee d’Orsay which houses much of the wonderful impressionist and post-impressionist art in the city. I was shocked by the fact that people were allowed to, and did, take photos of the art work but by the time I had passed through the Monets and Van Goghs I had started snapping a few of my own to remember the amazing artwork I was experiencing.

After the Orsay, I crossed the river again to head to Angelina’s – a famous tea room which I had been told by multiple recommenders had the best hot chocolate this side of the Aztecs. It left nothing to be desired although on a whim born of the overwhelming amount of sweets and pastries available I did order another strawberry sort of creation with custard and burnt sugar and strawberries which I thought might be somewhat more savoury with the hot chocolate but proved to send me into a sugar rush from which I didn’t quite recover for the rest of the day. The weather had gone from overcast to proper rain so instead of wandering through the city by foot, I hopped on a Seine cruise which took me up and down the river to see all of the main sites from the water. The boat was covered so it was an excellent excuse to get out of the rain and continue my sightseeing.

After the boat tour, it was well into the evening and it had been quite a long day. With plans to see a number of museums the next day, I called it an early night.

Part II of Paris soon!