Paris.......love-locked to my heart!

I do not intend to let the memories of my 5 days in Paris fade...so instead of the usual snippets, I have endeavoured to write as much as I recall.

Love locks on Pont Neuf

#Day 1

Alain, my AirBnB host, had kindly offered to pick me up from CDG airport and escort me home. It was an offer which I accepted with alacrity. I worried that no SIM card and maybe no wi-fi would pose a problem with me meeting him at the vast city of an airport that is Charles de Gaulle. But lo and behold, there was that familiar face (from his Airbnb profile photo) right at the arrivals gate through which I made my exit.
Introductions over, I told him that I speak a smattering of French and he was overjoyed by this revelation...and there we were....an Indian girl with her luggage and an elderly balding bespectacled French gent in a red coat walking and talking away.
A bit of hilarity ensued as we boarded some wrong trains that would not ply because of technical issues. I think we got off three consecutive resolutely stationary trains until the right one came along. Our trajectory was anything but simple. CDG shuttle train to RER local train to metro and then a short walk to Alain's.
This journey was such a delight. I kept grinning like a fool....taking in the sights outside....the people on the metro....everything. I was in Paris for the first time...the City of Lights...the city I had read so much about.
Montrouge, the area where I was living at Alain's, is a charmingly quiet and quaintly pretty part of Paris. It is just beyond the arrondisements and is the terminus of the purple line of the metro. Once at our destination, I asked Alain about Navigo/ Paris Visite passes that are valid for a week and for all modes of transport and he promptly pointed to one of the ticket vending machines. Sweet as candy, or should I say macaron, he paid for the ticket by his card (the machine did not accept cash which is what I had) and took cash from me.

My room in Montrouge, Paris

I loved my room, The windows overlooked a petit jardin (tiny garden) and allowed copious amounts of natural light to come in. Tired from my journey, I took a shower, ate, called home and slept early.

#Day 2

This was the official beginning of my trip. I was to venture forth into Paris, as a sponge and soak in everything. I did not want to miss a thing and remember everything. When planning my itinerary the night before, Alain helped me out tremendously with a metro map and a general idea of how transport in the city works. We also exchanged notes about: the recent Presidential elections in France and its implications, cheeses and breads and where to buy them and Indian parents and their styles of raising children. My French was about as good as his English, but he insisted on carrying on most of the conversation in French and would patiently correct me when I misspoke. I enjoyed the exchange and (French) words that I had forgotten started coming back to me unbidden.

So now about my real experiences while out and about in Paris! It is true what they say, that Paris is the city of love. Tourists, especially honeymooners, from all parts of the world seemed to have flocked here just to engage in amorous public displays of affection. In the metro, I recall, there was this couple who could not keep their tongues off each other. I have lived in England before, and in comparison the Brits are awful prudes. They sneak a quick peck on the lips from time to time but this was French Kissing 101.

The wi-fi in the city, that is advertised as free is rubbish! The only way I would have wi-fi was by entering a cafe or eatery of some description. Also, the metro stations, almost exactly like London, are far narrower than ours in India and God forbid if you're on the wrong platform, you'd have to climb up the stairs....walk the terminal and climb down again to reach the other platform. There are no seating arrangements at metro stations and trains are often crowded to the max. But the French are superbly polite and even on a crowded train if anyone even brushes past your body they will turn back to murmur a quick: 'pardon!'

My first destination, was of course, The Eiffel Tower. I got out from the metro exit and looked around me. Where was I? Should I ask someone the way? Then suddenly, upon a whim I swiveled around and looked up at the horizon and there it was...the Eiffel Tower of a thousand movies, pictures and photographs.

Un printemps a Paris

I approached the structure from behind, which meant there were no tourists and none of the con artists I had been warned so direly against. It meant that I got an unimpeded view of the whole facade and took innumerable pictures to my heart's content. The area where the Eiffel stands is called Champ de Mars. Alain, later told me that the word Champ in French means a vast area and Mars means the abode of Gods. True to it's heavenly name, the entire street was full of jacaranda trees in full bloom. Pink cherry blossom like blooms coloured the scene and added a touch of romance to the entire atmosphere. I was transported to an era of yore....where ladies in crinoline skirts with lacy parasols were helped out of handsome buggy carriages by mustachioed men in shiny black top hats. Sigh!

I walked to the front of the tower and then across the Seine. I had no clue where I was going next but I was alone in Paris, I could do whatever I wanted. I walked past many a bridge till I arrived at the most magnificent of them all....The Pont Alexandre III.

Pont Alexandre III

It was a bridge that looked like it had been built for royalty and I was not wrong. On the other side of the bridge were the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais, both of which are now museums. The golden dome of Les Invalides was visible in the distance. As I was walking on the bridge, which was surprisingly empty, I couldn't help but gape at a couple who were clearly doing a photoshoot for their wedding. She was wearing a dome-skirted ball-gown like dress that was white with gothic black lace on it and he was in a smart tuxedo with maroon detailing. As they walked arm-in-arm staring into each other's eyes with a wispy photographer buzzing around them snapping photographs, it suddenly made sense. There was a time and a place for grand romantic gestures in life....and on this day...in the city of love....on a beautiful bridge on the river Seine...this couple were immortalising their story.

I walked over the bridge towards Les Invalides. The golden dome shone in the sunlight.  I thought for a moment about Napoleon Bonaparte’s final remains that rested inside this building but I was feeling way too cheerful to want to go inside to see a mummified body so I walked on.

By this time the chilly wind had started to get to me.  I had on a grey hoodie which was clearly not enough. I did have plans to buy myself a nice overcoat to tide over the weather in Europe. Even though it was late April, the cold was not something to be trifled with. The last thing that I wanted was to get ill on the first leg of my journey. My search took me to  Saint Placide, a chic neighborhood lined with brand stores. I ducked in and out of a few of these before realising that this was not where I was to buy my coat.

First lunch in Paris

Hungry and cold I stepped into an empty cafe for my very first sit-down  meal in Paris. I chose Nutella crepes and salted caramel ice-cream and relished it  together with the free Wi-Fi that the establishment provided. Dejected by my inability to purchase a mere coat, I decided to  head back to Montrouge for some much-needed rest and to recharge my phone. Out the metro terminus and climbing up to the surface level, I decided to just look at a few shops in the area on a whim.  I stopped at a shop window looking in because of the  Sale sign. The clothes looked nice inside so I walked in and tried on a few coats. There was a smart double breasted one in beige  on sale but I wanted the same in navy blue. Thankfully, the smiley shop girls did  have that option and that is how I came to be both warm and smartly dressed in Paris.

That was the afternoon I had chosen to meet with Willy.  He was a CouchSurfer  who had expressed interest in taking me out on my public trip posted on the group.  He had a lot of good reviews  which made me decide to meet him.  Alain and I got talking and it was late by the time I left home for the second time that day. Willy asked me to meet him at the Fountain at Saint Michel . Armed with directions, I made my way to the spot as fast as I could. There he was, a smiling French man, waiting there just for me.  Willy had perfect English and he was glad to know that I spoke French too.

Where's Quasimodo?

Our first stop was the Notre Dame Cathedral. He took pictures of me outside and we toured the inside walking and talking. There were too many tourists within. The tall stained glass windows and the altar were very beautiful and I remember thinking that it is perpetually night inside this Cathedral, so dark were the interiors. Alain had asked me to go to the back of the cathedral and note the difference in architectural styles between the front facade and the back. The rear has been created in a Gothic style and was almost eerily at odds with the staid front facade. Made me think of the famous fictional hunchbacked resident of this very cathedral, the star of Victor Hugo's book.

We walked out of Notre Dame and onwards, crossing a couple of narrow bridges and reached Place de Vosges. Now, this is an area which is residence to the Parisian uber elite. A green square surrounded by identical looking honey coloured stone buildings that reminded me a bit of The Circle in Bath, only this was laid out in a square formation. We walked by the numerous art shops on one side of the square and admired the quirky and thought provoking art that was displayed. A wonderfully strange picture of a house comes to mind which changes in perspective when you walk past it, almost as if by magic.

A colourful square in the Chatelet area

On and on we walked, past the Centre George Pompidou building, (which got me super excited as I had seen it in a computer game) by the Les Halles mall and then onward till we reached Rue de Rivoli where the Louvre stretches out over almost a block.

Comedie Francaise

We made a quick stop outside the Comedie Francaise where the black and white striped projections from the ground made for some memorable photographs. The Louvre Pyramids in glass and steel were our next stop. I would be coming back to the museum later in the week but it was nice to just walk by and enter the Jardin de Tuillieries. We sat by the mammoth fountain and spoke about our families.

By the time we had walked to the Arc de Triomphe I was famished and Willy took me to a restaurant in the Warghab area called Mont Blanc which served a four course meal for 14 euros, one of the most economical and yet delicious places. It was like a buffet. You could pick a cold salad, a non-alcoholic beverage, a main course (for me it was poulet au riz, chicken with rice) and then a dessert. My meal was too big for me and I could not finish everything. I came back home tired, full and happy.

#Day 3

The second day I had planned to go to Versailles to the see the famous chateau. I got late leaving Alain's but he explained to me very clearly where to go and what to do to reach Versailles in one piece. I took the metro from Montrouge to St. Michel and from there the RER C line to the chateau. Much to my amusement it turned out to be a double-decker train and of course, I climbed onto the top deck and sat at a window. On the journey, I tuned into the radio and listened to some chamber music but willingly turned it down as an accordion player played live to the train audience. The music was exactly what plays in the background whenever Paris is depicted in a movie, I can hear it even as I type this many months later.

The Golden Gates of Versailles

A brief walk from the train station later I approached the gates of the Palace of Versailles. Directions are unimportant as all you do is just follow the hordes of people who empty out from the trains coming from Paris to see this marvellous infamous palace. The Palace is open from 9a.m. to 6:40p.m. It was a brilliant summer day, perfect for an excursion of this sort. The crowd was at least a thousand strong and after queuing for 15 minutes I discovered that I had to purchase a ticket before I could queue to enter. I dashed off to buy a ticket of the palace and decided not to purchase one for the gardens. I planned to spend not more than half the day here and to be back in Paris by afternoon.

Finally when I walked in with the audio guide in English plugged in...it took me a while to absorb everything I was seeing. The surging crowds were taking me along with them and it was taking me a while to figure out how to correspond what I was hearing on the audio guide with the placard with a number placed in front of whatever exhibit we were looking at. The gorgeousness and sumptuousness of the palace interiors are indescribable. There was so much gold and glitter, so much marble and shine. I went up the broad sweeping marble staircases hung with delicate but large chandeliers and gilded picture frames. Everything that is considered opulent was present here. The audio guide told me that the Palace at Versailles went through constant additions with every king who reigned. Each added a new wing or newer gardens and the palace area just kept growing.

                                                               Battle Scenes depicted 

There was a point when we were walking through the chambers of Louis XVI, when I noticed how my mood changed from amazement to bitterness. I will never forget how the decor changed from one section to the next with the use of gold, glitter, rich carpets, mad upholstery, vases, chandeliers, lamps....you name it. The dining space where the King ate his suppers on utensils made of gold (duh) and a group of gentry sat and watched the man eat! The more I saw the more I started feeling sick. Why could one family or one person, on just the virtue of his birth inherit so much and splurge so much. By the end of the walk through the splendour of Versailles I was in agreement with the revolutionists who chopped off royal heads at the guillotines by the hundreds. 

                                                             Marie Antoinette's Gardens

Though my legs were killing me I walked outside to the area overlooking the gardens. I had not purchased a ticket to go in and that was for the best. Never had I ever seen landscaping so intricate. Patterns of grass and topiary were interspersed with mirror like water bodies. It was surreal. The sun was playing hide and seek amidst clouds and I stood looking at the scene for a fair bit of time. By the time I headed out the golden gates, I was famished. I walked to the McDonald's opposite the train station that I had identified on my way to the palace. A 10 euro meal of burger fries and coke made me feel human again. I also used the wi-fi for the duration of the meal and made some WhatsApp calls. Then it was back on the RER and backa to Paris. 

                                                              Pere Lachaise Cemetery

It was on the train that I planned to go to the Pere Lachaise cemetery. The afternoon had become overcast and by the time I got to the gates of the cemetery there was a light drizzle. It is the largest cemetery in Paris and houses the graves of Chopin, Balzac, Proust, Edith Piaf, Oscar Wilde and many more. I got lost trying to get to some of the famous graves and walked endlessly through the greenery and the dead. Needless to say my legs were killing me but finally I found Jim Morrison's much bedecked grave. Then finding the exit was another ordeal but I managed. Bought a lighter and cigarettes at a shop and somehow caught the wrong train trying to get back to Montrouge. A kind cute French guy helped me get off the wrong train. I stopped at the boulangerie a few steps from Alain's place and bought a macaron and a pastry. Came back home, ate and rested a bit. Two of Alain's friends had come over to rehearse their theater lines with him. I was quietly in my room making plans to meet Bharath from the CouchSurfing group when Alain knocked and asked me to come and meet the ladies. They were really sweet and super impressed when I spoke my terrible French. They assured me it was fine and I sat and drank a glass of wine with them. Then it was time to head out to Saint Michel to meet Bharath. 

                                                               Seine by Dusk

While I was waiting for him by the Seine and smoking copiously, a Tamil guy stopped me and had a chat. He said that his name is Allen and that he is a chef in a restaurant. I was surprised when asked to take a selfie with me but I obliged. I bought a magnet from one of the many shops by the Seine. The same black and white picture of the Eiffel Tower hung in my room as a poster at Alain's place. I thought it would make a poignant piece of memory. Met with Bharath. Cognizant connect was established and we chatted away like old friends. We bought vegetarian falafel from a stall in the Saint Michel area and walked around Notre Dame eating and talking. 

                                                                            Trocadero

The best view of the Eiffel Tower lit up is from Trocadero he informed me so we took the metro there. It was very cold and there were quite a few people gathered on the viewing galley. He took some lovely photos of me and the Tower. I saw it lit and then at 8pm the glittering diamond lights danced on the gold body of the tower for five minutes. It was magical. I was so happy I could die. We walked and talked down the stairs of Trocadero to the entrance of the tunnel where Princess Diana died. Then onward to an island in the middle of the Seine where a Statue of Liberty stood proudly. We chatted so easily and had so much fun that we agreed to meet again the next day evening. 

#Day 4

The next morning I had booked myself on a walking tour of Montmartre with the very highly rated Discovery Walks. I woke and up and was served a feast of a breakfast of tarte Bretagne and black coffee by Alain. Never had I tasted coffee so delicious to be honest. The tart came from the Brittany region of northern France. It had a sticky dark brown caramel in the center and the tart shell was buttery and perfect. I was on the verge of running late for the walking tour so I hastened to the Montrouge metro but for some reason my Paris Visite pass would not work in the turnstile so I could not get into the station. Frantic I looked around for some metro personnel but of course there were none. Finally I saw a dark haired lady at the automated ticket machine and told her about my plight. She was so surprised to see a very foreign looking girl spouting her despair in weirdly accented French that she instantly agreed to help me out and we got in together through the turnstile on her ticket. She directed me to St. Michel station where my pass would be changed at no cost. We chatted amiably throughout the time that we waited for our train and till I got off at St. Michel. Her name was Marie and she has two kids. She was happy to know that I was a psychologist and got into an existential chat with me about what it means to be a good parent. This conversation was getting really emotional and Marie's eyes were swimming with tears. I was very surprised at how much of her fluent French I could actually understand but then we arrived at my station and I hopped off bidding her thanks and goodbye. 

 Walking Tour at Moulin Rouge

I reached the Blanche station just opposite the famous Moulin Rouge just in time. The Walking Tour had about 12 people (all white) led by our bespectacled tour guide. We started with him telling us about the popularity of Moulin Rouge (The Red Mill) and I am amazed as to how much of what he said I still remember as I write this. We walked up a busy street in Montmartre which was at a steep angle. Our next stop was outside Cafe de deux Moulin made famous by the movie Amelie. The tour guide told us about Montmartre had always been the rebel child of Paris and how it became the hub for artists, poets and the literary types who were later called the bobo-s: short for bourgeois Bohemians. 

                                                           Gorgeous day in Montmartre

We climbed up a hill listening intently about the first bishop of Paris, Saint Denis who had been sentenced to die on top of this very hill but was decapitated by a bored soldier on the way. The legend goes that Denis picked up his own severed head and walked on up to the top where his body then collapsed. The place is commemorated by a green park with a statue of Saint Denis holding his severed head. We also were told of the singer actress Dalida who lived here and despite her many lovers and nation-wide fame had a sad and unfulfilled life. Her commemorative bust inspired the joke that whoever did not touch her metal breasts would face the same dark fate.

                                                                                Sacre Coeur

The tour ended at Sacre Coeur or the Sacred Heart Cathedral. I headed towards the Gothic structure and even bought tickets for 4 euros to climb the towers to the top for a grand view of Paris. The interiors of the Cathedral were quite austere and very different from Notre Dame. The climb, up the tight spirals of what seemed like ten thousand steps to the top, was excruciating. Many a time I felt I would give up but sheer force of will and the steps of climbers behind me kept me going. Undoubtedly the views from up top were fabulous. I joined the others who had climbed up those punishing stairs in clicking some glorious photographs of the Paris skyline including the Eiffel Tower and the skyscrapers of La defense.

I descended from the Montmartre hill and browsed for a good 15 minutes in a clothing store before heading for lunch. At random I got off at the metro stop called Villiers and ate a poulet croque madame sandwich at Cafe Monceau. On my way back to Alain's to recharge and refresh I stopped at Shakespeare And Co. the famed bookstore. I berated myself to find that it was right next to the Notre Dame and I had missed it the last two times I had come here. 

                                                                   The Beloved Bookstore

After a bit of browsing and surely no buying I moved on to Montrouge and home. Alain welcomed me with coffee and told me that the mother to his ex wife had passed away and he would be going to attend her funeral the next day. He would leave in the morning at 6 in the morning and would be back by afternoon. I planned to leave my packed luggage in the living room and go out for the day and then return in the late afternoon to pick up my stuff and leave Paris. 

                                                                 Solitary bus journey 

We discussed the history behind Musee d'Orsay where I was headed that afternoon and Alain suggested I take a bus (also covered by my Paris Visite pass) instead of the Metro so that I could see more of the city as I traveled. This proved to be an invaluable piece of advice and I berated myself for not taking the surface transport these past few days. I remember some avant-garde window displays and thinking how Paris is the mecca of hi-fashion. Soon I was at the Musee d'Orsay. It used to be a train station and still has a huge clock face on the wall that you face when you enter.

                                                          Interiors of the Musee D'Orsay

The museum is  not super large. It can be easily covered in a few hours by a non-artsy individual like me. So I ducked in and out of galleries on the ground floor and the first floor and caught a few familiar gems by Monet (from the water lilies and garden collection) and Van Gogh (Self Portrait, Starry Night over the Rhone) and many more. There was this amazing sculpture on the first floor that caught my fancy and I stood looking at it till the crowds swept me away. After leaving the museum I still had some time on my hand before I met Bharath. I spent it ambling over Pont Neuf, the lock bridge that had grown so heavy with the locks placed by lovers that the government had had them removed. It was such gorgeous weather - a cool breeze blew over the Seine and I saw a pink and gold sunset. I kept walking and soaking in the sights and sounds and suddenly found myself at the intersection of Saint Placide where I had my crepe lunch on the first day. I took a metro to Châtelet to meet Bharath and we took another train to Gare du Nord. I was told that there was a sizable Indian population in this area and he took me to a South Indian food place. He ate a Masala Dosa with evident relish while I had a fruit juice. 

                                                                          The Ozzie Club

Then we went to a nightclub that Bharath recommended. What's witnessing Paris without its nightlife, I thought. We left our coats and bags at the coat check and went upstairs to the main club area. A large semicircular bar, loud pulsating music, red and blue lights on the dance-floor were the main features of the place. We got a place to sit in the back of the club with a good view of the dance-floor. Slowly and steadily the club started filling up and people started dancing albeit very badly. We sat looking at them sipping on our drinks and sometimes chatting with each other. I recall how a bulky guy who was dancing accidentally sent a beer bottle kept on the bar-top crashing to the floor and shattering into pieces. After a while we had had our full of the 'club-life' and we left. Outside a very drunk guy spoke to Bharath asking for money and we had a moment of mild fear but he declined and the guy left. I came back home nearly at 2 a.m.

                                               View from the rooftop of Galleries Lafayette                                                                                                            

# Day 5

The next morning I vaguely heard Alain clattering around in the kitchen and then leaving. I understood that it was 6 a.m. I fell back to sleep and woke up later. After a shower and another slice of 'Tarte Bretagne' I packed all my luggage and kept my main suitcase in a corner of Alain's drawing room. Then I left my key with a note on the table and left the house for the Galleries Lafayette. I took another bus to the area. One whole block of central Paris is dedicated to the largest shopping center of the city. It is the Harrods of Paris. The ground floor housed the perfume and cosmetics section and I spotted every famous brand and more. Just curious I stopped at the second floor women's clothing department to check the price of a plain looking cotton top. It cost 122 € which sent my head spinning a little bit. I admired the gorgeous art-deco style ceiling that I had read about and headed up the many flights of escalators up to the roof.

                                                                 Art-Deco Ceiling

The view from the roof was stunning. The entire city lay spread out in all directions and out in the distance I could see the Eiffel Tower. I berated myself for sacrificing 4€ and both my lungs to climb up Sacre Coeur for the same view. It was just about 10:30 a.m. when I left the Galleries Lafayette and took the metro to the Louvre. 

                                                                       La Louvre

Stupid me, I stood in the main queue with the whole world for 1.5 hours. There were Indian people selling water in transparent pouches and bottles, Spanish moms with a baby on their hip and another in a pram,Turkish couples who looked very chic and well-put together. There was a group of East European friends who often stepped out of the line to take selfies by the famous glass pyramid. I heard a couple of Brit girls with candy pink hair with their unmistakable accent and many American honeymooners. People watching was all I could do for the entire duration the line took to snake forward.

                                                                        La Joconde/Mona Lisa

            

The sheer enormity and grandiosity of La Louvre overtook me inside. It was not a museum it was like another Palace of Versailles. It was so huge! There were so many sections that it was almost impossible to choose but I saw many signs leading to La Joconde and understood that the Mona Lisa by Da Vinci was a top draw. Followed the swelling crowds and finally met the world-famous lady with the enigmatic smile. It was a bit underwhelming to be honest, the painting was pretty tiny and the dark tones made it look more somber in person. Michelangelo's David was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase and getting a fair bit of attention too. I walked around and saw as much as I could in that wing of the vast city that was the Louvre museum. At this stage  fatigue and hunger had set in so severely that I could not walk anymore. In my defense, I had spent the last few days on my feet from morning till night and should not have left the Louvre for the last day.  With tears in my eyes I gave up on the Louvre promising to myself that I would return someday and spend days here and not hours. 

             

                                                                    Scenes from the city

After The Louvre I got into the metro and headed to Opera station buying a pain au chocolat in the station which I ate on the way. I got off and took a bus to reach the Place St. Cloud. This was a very different part of Paris outside the arrondisements. The buildings were not the quintessential Parisian honey colored structures but instead I saw modern boxy apartments. It was a very different vibe altogether in this part of town. I stopped at a boulangerie and bought a quiche frômage. Sitting int that tiny bakery while it drizzled outside was a delectable experience. I wanted to get to Pont Garigliano which seemed pretty close by on the map I was carrying but people I asked directions from said it was pretty far away. I kept walking, feeling quite sad that I was to leave in a few hours. The rain was weird, stopping and starting again. I ducked into a chocolaterie for a thick rich hot chocolate drink and the lady gave me proper directions and a free truffle. I reached the bridge and caught my final mode of public transport in Paris, the tram.

                                                                    The Paris Tram

I must say the tram was a bizarre experience. It is a very proletariat crowd in there, somewhat unwashed and scruffy looking. There was signs inside the vehicle warning passengers to beware pickpockets and to take care of personal belongings. I clutched my measly little side bag to myself and hopped off at Porte D'Orleans. Took a metro back to Alain's and found him back. Always the exemplary host he introduced me to the next couple who were going to stay in my room and then poured me some coffee. I sat and chatted with Alain a good hour and a half but then it was time to say good-bye. Downstairs I bought a chicken sandwich and some more chocolates from the Monoprix supermarket and got to Porte Maillot from where I was to take an evening Flixbus to Berlin.

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