55 Hours in Paris

WARNING: This post contains extreme sappiness. Read at your own risk.

          

         Coming to Paris, I wanted to have the ultimate laid-back attitude. My plan was that I had no plan. I had done absolutely no research on Paris and had no idea what I wanted to see. All I wanted to do was wander the streets of Paris while feasting on the holy trinity of wine, bread, and cheese. I would go wherever the city took me.

          Within an hour of arriving in Paris, I found my laid-back attitude spiraling out of control. Forget the cab, let’s walk to the hostel, it’s only 2 miles and then we can see the city! Sure, all ten of us would love to share a room! Oh, Gina sings in her sleep? Great! I requested a song. What had Paris done to me? Usually, I would be making the opposite of these decisions, but Parisian Chris just went with the flow and made adventurous decisions (I took the top bunk!).

         After a leisurely boat tour of the Seine, we headed over to the Louvre. My inner hipster was telling me to avoid the Mona Lisa, but I couldn’t keep away. Something had changed; I wanted a list of sights to see. The one thing I had tried to avoid was now the thing I wanted most. I loved Paris and I knew if I spent my time wandering alone, I would become lost and waste my time trying to ask disgruntled locals for directions. The problem was that I had no idea what to see, where to go, or how to get there. Maybe research would’ve been a good idea. I only had 55 hours in Paris, and I needed to make the most of it. I was determined to speed read some guidebooks and scoop up as many pamphlets as my hands could carry. I wanted to be a full-on tourist. All I needed was a fanny pack and an obnoxiously large map and I’d be good to go.

   

         Over the next two days, I butchered the French language as I made my way through the city. I saw a lot and I loved every minute of it, but I didn’t have a chance to catch my breath. By the time we climbed the steps of Sacre Coeur on our last day in Paris and looked out on the beautiful vista, I felt fulfilled. I finally let out a sigh of relief. I had done Paris and had seen what I wanted to see.

       My train back to London left about an hour earlier than everyone else’s and I found myself feeling uncharacteristically reflective as I sat alone on the train. It was the first time I realized what a great experience coming to Europe has been and how much I would miss everyone once it was all over. When I think back on my time in Paris, my mind won’t immediately go to my memories of seeing the Mona Lisa or looking up at the Eiffel Tower. Instead, my favorite memories involve the people that I’ve spent time with over the past few weeks. These memories include Kim screaming in fright at a car while crossing the street to the Arc de Triomphe, Jackie planking outside of Notre Dame, getting drunk in Luxembourg gardens, Gina dancing at the nightclub, and trying our best to master the accent of our guide on the boat tour. These are the things that I’ll remember most about Paris because they're what has made this whole trip worthwhile. But enough of this mushy gushy stuff, I have to go revise a paper about how I don't like Shakespeare.