48 Hours in Paris, Part One of Three
This spring the band that Chocolate plays with embarked on its first European tour. They began in the UK, traveling from Ireland to Scotland and England, then hit the European mainland, which consisted of several dates across France, Amsterdam and Belgium. Months ago I mentioned the desire to take a vacation of my own when the band was visiting a place I'd like to visit, allowing me to kill two birds with one stone. One, I'd take a vacation in a desired location. Two, I'd get to enjoy that vacation with my boyfriend. Little did I know that this little suggestion would end up becoming a whirlwind weekend in Paris.
While the band would be in France for over a week's time, they would be working most of that time, which would leave Chocolate and I with very little time to ourselves. There was, however a weekend with nothing planned, which they would spend in Paris. This would turn out to be an excellent opportunity to fly in.
I left the States on Friday, March 14 in the early evening. The trip to Paris would take three flights, and this was the first of 12+ hours of flying. First leg was Raleigh-Durham to JFK, an uneventful domestic flight. Upon arriving in New York, I high-tailed it around the airport to catch the second and most lengthy segment of my trip out, JFK to Heathrow. This flight left (an hour late) around 11pm and would not arrive in London until 9am. Once on the plane, I amused myself with my iPod for a while, but pretty soon decided to try to sleep, since I would have to be up all day after arriving in Paris. I was able to get a little bit of sleep, but woke up in time to see the sunrise while approaching the UK. Very nice.
Touched down in London, ran around the airport to catch the final, also delayed part of my trip, London to Paris. This trip was, as flights go, also not much to write home about except for the chance to see England, and later Paris, from the air. Approaching Paris could not have been better. Skies were overcast, but the plane flew above the clouds, so there was some accompanying sunlight. As our descent continued, my anticipation built. There was the Eiffel Tower! Ah, Paris!
Chocolate was already waiting for me as I left baggage claim. I can't begin to describe the rush of seeing him again, in this place, after such a highly anticipated bout of traveling. The moment we were reunited was truly like something out of a movie. This protracted moment of mutual admiration continued through the train ride from the airport and onto the streets of Paris, as we made our way to the hotel on foot. I dropped my bags in the room, we enjoyed a few moments to ourselves, then went out to explore the city.
Our first little walk began with a search for food, but ended up with us lost and trying to find our way back to the hotel. It was actually more fun that it sounds, at least to me, because I kind of get a kick out of having to reorient myself in new places. We didn't find food on that first attempt, but freshened up at the hotel and did some Google searching for things to see that night and struck out again. This time, we took the metro to Barb\xE8s-Rochechouart station and wandered around looking for dinner. After dinner, more strolling led us to an ancient passage near Gare de l'Est, where we helped a lady carry her bicycle up two flights of steps. While we were out, we decided it'd be fun to find a bar or club, so we headed back to the hotel to Google up some info.
This resulted in a midnight metro trip out to Franklin Roosevelt station on the Champs-Elys\xE8es. We found the sought-after club, but a quick survey of the line and be-clipboarded bouncer (not to mention 20Euro/per admission) made us change our minds about exploring it on a whim. Not to worry, since we were still able to enjoy a walk down this stunning and vibrant Avenue. At the end of this walk we stood in the light that bathed the Arc de Triomphe to bask in our own warm glow. Back to Franklin Roosevelt, then back to Chatelet station, whereupon the trains stopped running. Quel suprise!
From Chatelet, I was able to suss out how far we were from the hotel, which wasn't very far, but it would be a bit of a walk. Thankfully, the company would be enough to keep our spirits up. We began walking up Boulevard de Sebastopol, but realized that there was some interesting street life a block over, on Rue Saint-Denis. Along this street there were vendors and shops selling food to young people on their way home from partying. It was, seemingly, a pedestrian street, so there was a lot of foot traffic and very few automobiles. It was the nightlife that we'd desired to find ourselves in, and did only through a happy accident. That walk was the subject of hundreds of movies about lovers in Paris, and on that night, we were main characters of our own movie about two lovers in Paris.
