Paris (France)
21 SEPTEMBER 2014
21 SEPTEMBER 2014
The open French windows of our apartment on Quai de Montebello allow our curtains to carelessly dance on the gusts of wind entering our room, both teasing and provoking us as we dose in the early hours of this Parisian morning. That unmistakable scent of rain is intoxicating and energizing, it stimulates the senses, and its driving force, silvery grey curtains falling with purpose, blanketing this city, producing such a welcoming, soothing and calming sound, working as the perfect accomplice to a Sunday morning that has no enforced obligations. I slowly open my eyes and turn. Gazing out from my vantage point I can see the greyness of the sky, the grey leaves of the trees and the grey backdrop of Notre Dame, the historical cathedral standing imperiously on Ile de la Cite. The world to me at this moment seems to be vivid in black and white, a film noir, classic, evocative, unreal. Moments such as these you just can't script.
The morning hours pass with the same carelessness that you associate with a dream. Wonderful in its design but coloured by the lament caused by its own fiction. That however was the point where for today we had won, we had managed to trump the 'dream theatre' by creating a superior reality, the city of Paris playing the perfect supporting role. Thinking back now I can only ever remember those early hours of that Parisian morning in black and white, typifying the seductive atmosphere of that morning.
Mornings such as these have a knack of passing by all too quickly. In the blink of an eye we were standing out on the street, saying our goodbyes and wondering, I'm sure, when and where in this world we'd be seeing each other again. And even though now, typing this, I know the answer to that question, those sort of goodbyes are quite cruel in their design.
Some hours later my parents and I jumped on a train at Saint-Michel Notre Dame and headed up to Gare du Nord where we in turn bundled ourselves into a cab and made our way to Montmartre. It was the only time during our stay in Paris where the weather turned on us, rain occupying the best part of this Sunday morning as we were forced to negotiate the ever present crowds up on the butte. In all honesty, unlike other times in Montmatre, the crowds made it difficult to enjoy the morning. The little village was filled to the brim and perhaps I should have thought better of heading up there when I knew the crowds would be out in force.
My walk, or rather meanderings took me back down through the Marais and back down to Ille de Cite where I was able to watch the sun drop out of sight and leave its orange glow as its own reminder of the day. Boats drifted by carelessly, and my thoughts were equally as aimless. Seriously though, how many times in your life do you fly to Paris for a first date? Or how many times do you fly to Paris in order to simply surprise someone that expects you to be on the other side of the world? As I've said so many times in this blog, there are many times when I think of my travels, their outcomes and realise just how fortunate I've been. At times I even think that my 'luck' is due to turn at some point and that rolling the dice one too many times might just turn everything on its head, but I'm addicted, and as a travel addict I'm just going to have to deal with whatever punishment that fits my crime!
Making my way back to Rue de la Harpe I waited for my parents to make their way back from Jules Verne. Somewhere close to midnight they made their way back in, with alcohol inspired cheer and raving at what a magnificent evening they had. That was it, mission accomplished for me, now I was fully satisfied.
Hitting the streets of Paris once again I made my way slowly through the Latin Quarter, once again alone, once again living in my own thoughts but already thinking ahead as to where and when my next port of call would be. Only the night before Inga and I had been discussing a few months in South America in 2015, and writing now about what my thoughts were then, I'm happy to advise myself that I'll be spending three months with Inga, in South America commencing in Buenos Aires on the 28th of March, 2015! So watch this space, 2015 is going to be an amazing year for both my own travels and the unravelling of an amazing storyline that commenced some four years ago.
Mornings such as these have a knack of passing by all too quickly. In the blink of an eye we were standing out on the street, saying our goodbyes and wondering, I'm sure, when and where in this world we'd be seeing each other again. And even though now, typing this, I know the answer to that question, those sort of goodbyes are quite cruel in their design.
Some hours later my parents and I jumped on a train at Saint-Michel Notre Dame and headed up to Gare du Nord where we in turn bundled ourselves into a cab and made our way to Montmartre. It was the only time during our stay in Paris where the weather turned on us, rain occupying the best part of this Sunday morning as we were forced to negotiate the ever present crowds up on the butte. In all honesty, unlike other times in Montmatre, the crowds made it difficult to enjoy the morning. The little village was filled to the brim and perhaps I should have thought better of heading up there when I knew the crowds would be out in force.
Au de Gascogne - Montmatre - Paris - France
We made our way back to the Latin Quarter around mid-afternoon. My parents priming themselves for dinner at Jules Verne restaurant on the second floor of the Eiffel tower, and me, getting ready to head out into the Marais in order to steal a few evening cocktails and then pull up a chair at Chez Robert et Louise for another one of their famous meals, and yes, as always it was fantastic. A nice Bordeaux, boudin noir, entrecote and some salad. Its just such a treat, a place that always makes me happy for the food it serves up and its ambiance. It was the fourth occasion that I've had dinner there and I always seem to walk away in the same manner, happy, content and with a slight food induced daze.
Evening in the Marais - Paris - France
Afternoon on the Seine - Paris - France
Evening on the Seine - Paris - France
Evening on the Seine - Paris - France
My walk, or rather meanderings took me back down through the Marais and back down to Ille de Cite where I was able to watch the sun drop out of sight and leave its orange glow as its own reminder of the day. Boats drifted by carelessly, and my thoughts were equally as aimless. Seriously though, how many times in your life do you fly to Paris for a first date? Or how many times do you fly to Paris in order to simply surprise someone that expects you to be on the other side of the world? As I've said so many times in this blog, there are many times when I think of my travels, their outcomes and realise just how fortunate I've been. At times I even think that my 'luck' is due to turn at some point and that rolling the dice one too many times might just turn everything on its head, but I'm addicted, and as a travel addict I'm just going to have to deal with whatever punishment that fits my crime!
Making my way back to Rue de la Harpe I waited for my parents to make their way back from Jules Verne. Somewhere close to midnight they made their way back in, with alcohol inspired cheer and raving at what a magnificent evening they had. That was it, mission accomplished for me, now I was fully satisfied.
Hitting the streets of Paris once again I made my way slowly through the Latin Quarter, once again alone, once again living in my own thoughts but already thinking ahead as to where and when my next port of call would be. Only the night before Inga and I had been discussing a few months in South America in 2015, and writing now about what my thoughts were then, I'm happy to advise myself that I'll be spending three months with Inga, in South America commencing in Buenos Aires on the 28th of March, 2015! So watch this space, 2015 is going to be an amazing year for both my own travels and the unravelling of an amazing storyline that commenced some four years ago.
