I mentioned in an earlier post that it was never my dream to go to Paris, it’s true. I was 19 years old at the start of the 1970’s and studying at a university when I decided to take a semester break. My older sister was living in Germany at the time and I decided to go see Europe and my little nephew for the first time.
Needless to say, I was excited! I had dreams of going to London and Amsterdam, and I saw myself traveling through the wonderful cities of Italy, and hopping from island to island in Greece. My sister wasn’t far from Luxembourg and she told me, “You have to go to Paris, it’s so beautiful!”
My response was, “No, if I have time I will, but if I don’t see Paris on this trip, that’s okay; as long as I see London and Rome!”
A few days later I was playing with my nephew when my sister came home from shopping. “Guess what I got you?” she asked. After a few lame guesses, I couldn’t imagine so she pulled out a ticket voucher and said, “I put you on a tour to Paris next week!”
“Really!” I said. “I guess I’m going to Paris!”
It was a bus tour that left in the morning and got to Paris in the afternoon. I still wasn’t excited until the bus arrived at the Place de la Concorde and I saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time. As we made our way up the Champs-Elysées and I saw the Arc of Triumph looming ahead, my mind was thinking about three of my film idols, Audrey Hepburn, Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire. Sabrina, An American in Paris, Gigi, and Funny Girl were all there before my eyes! I couldn’t wait to get off that bus and walk down the street!
Our hotel was on the next avenue and our tour guide gave each of us our room key. We had the rest of the afternoon to explore and then we were to meet back at the hotel to go out for dinner and a Paris by Night tour. I dumped my belonging in my room and left the hotel as soon as I could.
I made my way back to the Champs-Elysées and started walking; people and cars were everywhere. As I strolled along the avenue, I saw a bunch of people going down the stairs somewhere. Where is everyone going?, I wondered. I continued walking, and once again I observed more people going down more stairs and thought what could be so fascinating down there when this was the most beautiful avenue I had ever seen! I decided to check it out for myself!
I was swept up with a sea of humanity as I made my way down more steps. (This was a time when there were people who punched your Métro ticket “les poinçonneurs” as you made your way to the platform. During rush hour, however, it was next to impossible for them to get to everyone. People just passed through with or without a ticket.) As I still didn’t know where I was, I just kept going along with everyone else.
In a matter of minutes the Métro train pulled in with crowds of people getting off and just as many getting on. I was pushed on with everyone else and we were squeezed in like a bunch of sardines. More stops and more people continued to get packed inside. It was a friendly atmosphere though, and I loved listening to everyone speaking French. I didn’t understand one word of it!
Finally we arrived somewhere, the doors opened and once again I was swept along with everyone else. I got off the train and followed most people down some more stairs. It was there that everyone took off in different directions and I was left standing there without an inkling in the world what to do next! The sign said “Châtelet” but it didn’t mean a thing to me!
I realized I had no idea where I was or where my hotel was! I had left the key at the front desk and hadn’t bothered looking at the name of the hotel, the street address, or anything! I looked around and saw a young man who had his back to me. I’ll go and ask him for help, maybe he can tell me how to get back to the Arc of Triumph. I’m sure I can find the hotel from there, I thought.
I went up to him and tapped him. He turned around and it was love at first sight for both of us! A gorgeous young Frenchman swept me off my feet 20 minutes after arriving and it was the beginning of a love affair with Paris!
Maya Muses: The biggest surprise was for my sister when I told her I was staying in Paris! That was priceless!
Photo Credits: Rita Crane and Flickr
7 responses so far ↓
1 Mia // Nov 17, 2008 at 9:23 pm
Sounds wonderful!
Going with the flow!That is what we all should do a little bit more…You never know what will happen!
2 Lynn // Nov 17, 2008 at 11:37 pm
It was! That’s what I love about Paris and Rome, everyday just stepping outside your apartment, even something as trivial as going shopping, would be an adventure where anything could happen!
3 Michelle // Mar 11, 2009 at 1:28 am
Thank you for pointing me to this! I never really dreamed of Paris in that way either. I wanted to see France as I had always felt a connection with that but wasn’t that fussed on Paris. It was only when my friends all began doing the wedding anniversary trips and ’significant birthday’ trips that I felt an itch of . . probably jealousy that they were, ‘doing stuff,’ while I battled through raising teens and so on, if I am honest.
When the chance came, I did it, but my way. I went alone, for one. And I checked into an apartment not a hotel, and I refused to do anything like sign up for a tour. It’s funny, I got dropped off and let into the apartment, then sat there terrified to leave it. I was on the Marais/Bastille border, and I had never seen such a high density development (lived much of my life in the desert and bush), much less navigated. In my stubborness I had refused to read anything much before going, as I thought that would make me like everybody else. I wanted it to all be a surprise. It took two hours to get up the courage to leave and walk around. I took notes so I didn’t get lost. But I still did, but fortunately I had drawn a little mud map in my little journal to show me the way from the monument, and that was a pretty hard landmark to miss. I had to look for it many times over the next two weeks in order to get ‘home.’
I had no plans, other than a couple of tips a like minded writer friend of mine who’d lived there for a while gave me . ‘Carry a map book and small phrase book at all times, walk don’t take the metro straight away or you’ll miss so much, visit Pere Lachaise, you will love it, just follow your heart”–that sort of thing. And I did that, I walked, and walked some more, talked to locals, and amused waiters in cafes with my inept attempts at ordering vegetarian food. Oh, and I constantly got lost, as something interesting caught my eye and I walked in a completely different direction than I had intended. But in all that getting lost I found something that had been buried deep for a long time-Me!
4 Lynn // Mar 11, 2009 at 8:02 am
Michelle, it’s truly the only way to see Paris! You walk and walk and walk and you don’t even realize how much you’ve walked because there’s just so much to feast your eyes on! (And a wonderful way to stay thin!!!)
It sounds like you truly did find yourself!
5 Michelle // Mar 11, 2009 at 8:09 am
Yes, but then I got home , and lost track of that Me. I know she’s in here, somewhere.
Funny, after writing that comment I got out my journal from when I was there. I’m more the ’scrawl the stream of consciousness’ type of journaller and I was surprised to re-encounter some of that stuff I discovered I’d written. Sometimes I didn’t recognise myself. I guess that is why I *know * I have to go back .
6 Lynn // Mar 11, 2009 at 5:09 pm
You will, once Paris (or France in your case) gets into your soul, it becomes a yearning to go “home”. Perhaps that’s why you’ve always felt somewhat “disoriented” in Australia. The “Me” in you knows where you belong….
7 Michelle // Mar 12, 2009 at 1:04 am
I suspect you are right. Me will find her way back.
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