Landing in a new city can be exhilarating, eye opening and terrifying. Jet lag adds to a surreal feeling that takes over every part of your life, things as simple as brushing your teeth ridiculously gain new excitement. I’ve spent the past two weeks in a whirlwind of famous monuments, ancient artworks, foreign food and Parisian charm. When I say charm of course I mean I’ve learnt very quickly not to smile at people on the subway.
Small doses of reality do bring me back to solid ground, but all in all I’ve spent most of the past few weeks pinching myself and smiling like an idiot at beautiful things. This city is a dream, not to sound like a cliché or anything but Paris is just one, very large, cliché.
I wake up to streets filled with stalls; fruit, vegetables, fresh fish and bread sold by tiny businesses all over the city. Coffee is served black for lunch, €3 with a croissant. The sun sets over the local park where a friend and I share a bottle of wine and talk in broken french to others with the same idea. By dark the bars and bistros are packed with locals who seem to be out almost every night for a drink. Although Paris has been known as the city that always sleeps, young Parisians seem to be rebelling against this title – partying until 4am any day of the week, much later on a Friday or Saturday night. Due to this the Seine is packed at any hour, with tourist paying exorbitant amounts of money for crepes and chilled water by day, and thousands of young people at night, drinking, dancing and eating their way till sunrise.
I’ve fallen in love with this beautiful city, it didn’t take too long. Paris is a place where attempting to live out fantasy somehow becomes a reality, and a decent bottle of wine is less than €10…