Arriving in Paris--la Ville Lumière

After a layover in Copenhagen, we arrived in Paris late Wednesday night. We lugged our suitcases on the Orlybus to the metro at Denfert-Rochereau, on to the crazy Chatelet les Halles station, and then to Saint Paul. Even amidst the stress of squeezing ginormous suitcases through the metro ticket stalls, it felt surreal to be back in the city I regularly get homesick for. I felt anticipation but also a strange bout of nerves--I wanted Brandon to experience the Paris I love and to appreciate it. In my experience, people are usually hot or cold about Paris, rarely lukewarm. As an intern, I spent three solid months exploring the city on my own. After work ended at noon, I spent the rest of the day-- every day--visiting the nooks and crannies of the city. I loved it to start with, and it only grew on me. Sure, the metro smells like a mix of tobacco, urine, and a certain unidentifiable (thankfully) something; but the city it grants access to is chalk-full of beauty, history, and romance. As Hemingway said,

"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young [wo]man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast."

Dang skippy, Hemingway. 

Thanks to airbnb.com, Brandon and I got to stay on the cheap in the 3rd district of the city--I took special care that we be well-located. Even though we were in the middle of the thriving French capital, we stayed with a Japanese host. Go figure.

Our host Azusa

That first night, despite the late hour, we decided to go on a stroll. Our stroll ended up being a few kilometers since I couldn't resist the pull of the city center. So we walked to Notre Dame and along the river where we saw fire dancers entertaining a group of youngens smoking and drinking the night away. As we walked down the steps to the riverwalk, I received a nice welcome surprise from Paris. And by nice I mean completely revolting. Something that felt like a wet Koosh ball hit my foot. If only it had been a Koosh. It was actually a rat. Rough start, guys. Rough start. But I brushed it off like a big girl (not really--I had periodic outbursts and shudders the rest of the night and for days to come). We braved the rodent and the party-hardy atmosphere to catch a glimpse of my favorite view of Notre Dame. I love love love the side view of Notre Dame from la Rive Gauche.  It was a magical way to start off our Europe adventure.

The Lock Bridge