little black journal

It is a wonderful feeling to be somewhere and think to yourself, “There is absolutely no other place on earth I’d rather be right now.”  Shane and I arrived at Charles de Gaulle this morning, weary and jet-lagged from the 12-hour flight, but as soon as we climbed the steps up out of the Metro station and onto the sidewalks of Paris, I was instantly rejuvenated.  One quick glance at the streetscape and I knew that this city is every bit as beautiful as I remembered it to be.  After a short bout of panic at the bank when we found that we couldn’t change our traveler’s checks into Euros for our apartment’s security deposit, we arrived at our place on Rue Pastourelle (where before we could explain our currency dilemma, the landlord shrugged and said, “Nevermind.  Don’t worry about the deposit.”  So French.)  The apartment is quaint and comfortable, with a great view of the surrounding Parisian rooftops and the courtyard of the Archives Nationales.  I could get used to opening my windows onto this every morning:

We quickly unloaded our stuff, freshened up, and before you could say, “Bienvenue”, we were back out the door, ready to enjoy the city.  Got lunch at a corner brasserie, wandered for a little, realized that we were both feeling a little zombie-like, and returned to the apartment for a much-needed nap.  That was two hours well-spent.  We woke up hungry and grabbed a wedge of brie, a few slices of salami, and a baguette and had a simple (but quite delicious) dinner at the apartment before heading out for a glass of wine and some dessert.  Ended up snagging a table on the terrace in front of Les Philosophes in the Marais.  It was a chilly night, but the heat lamps, the carafe of red wine, and the chocolate espresso cake set before us made us quickly forget about the weather.  The terrace was packed – this is one of the many things I love about Paris: no matter the weather, the time of day, or the state of the economy, people here always find time to grab a seat at one of these tiny sidewalk tables and linger over a drink with friends.  We polished off our wine, chatted for awhile more while we waited 30 minutes for our bill (when in France…), and decided to take a short stroll across the river before heading back to the apartment.  Stood in awe of Hotel de Ville, glowing in the night; reveled in the splendor of Notre Dame; and grabbed a couple of crepes in the Latin Quarter to warm our hands and satisfy our craving for a second dessert.  And then, we were pooped.  Ready to turn in for the night.  Can’t wait to see what tomorrow holds…

Our bags are packed, our reservations are confirmed, our batteries are charged, and tomorrow we leave for Paris.  I’ve looked forward to this trip for the last 4 years, and so the thought that we are actually going still makes my head spin and my heart flutter.  Is it really possible that in less than 48 hours, I will be roaming the streets of the most beautiful city in the world?  This city is home to some of my fondest memories – it is where I fell in love with art, it is where I acquired a taste for espresso, it is where huge seeds of confidence and independence were planted in my soul.  I’ve been reading through some of the old journals I kept while I was in Paris 5 years ago, picking out names of my favorite cafes and art galleries, and tonight I came across this entry, written on July 4, 2004, my last day abroad:

“45 minutes before I leave for the airport.  Am wandering around in a bit of daze, not wanting to come to terms with the fact that my year in Paris is about to become a memory.  Am sipping a cafe creme, looking out over Place de la Bastille, trying to muster up some excitement about returning to the familiarity of home.  I’ve had to say good-bye to people I love before, but never really to a place.  Not sure how to do it.  Can’t very well give Paris a big hug, wave, and say, “I’ll call you when I get home”.  Can say, “see you later”, though.  Alors, a bientot et merci.  Tu vas me manquer…”

And so “later” has arrived!  The best part about it?  This time Shane comes with me.  As much as I cherished my time in Paris, the fact that we were apart often kept me from fully embracing my experiences abroad.  I can definitely be a bit of a loner, but I really do believe it’s so much better to share a place so beautiful with someone you love.  So cheers to a much-anticipated, well-deserved, totally romantic get-away.  Ciao.

Departure in T minus 16 days, and the major stops on our European itinerary are set – plane tickets and hotels have been booked for the following:

Saturday to Saturday:  PARIS.  We’ve rented an apartment near the Marais for the week, just a few blocks from the Place des Vosges, which is about as Parisian as a place can get.  Can’t wait to spend an afternoon or two there sitting on the grass, munching on a baguette, sharing a bottle of wine, listening to the sounds of all the French-speaking passers-by.  We’re keeping our Paris itinerary pretty loose, just looking forward to waking up each morning and saying to each other, “What amazing thing do you want to go do today?”

Saturday to Wednesday:  Porto, Portugal.  Our good friends from Seattle, J and L, will be flying in on Sunday and we’ll be spending a few days with them as they begin their two-week tour of Portugal and Spain.  I still don’t know too much about Porto, other than:  1) It’s extremely old and unbelievably beautiful, and 2) There’s a lot of good Port wine there, ready for the drinking.  Really, what else do you need to know?  We might rent a car for a day and drive out into the wine country – a day in the Portuguese vineyards definitely sounds like something I could do.  Also really looking forward to seeing the Casa da Musica in Porto.  This is an iconic piece of contemporary architecture, designed by OMA/Rem Koolhaas (who also did the Seattle Public Library).

Wednesday to Friday:  Madrid, Spain.  We found super-cheap tickets via RyanAir, and J and L were already going, so we said, why not?  Madrid sounds cool.  Not sure yet what we’re going to do there (except that Shane just discovered there is going to be an awesome Francis Bacon exhibit at the Prado while we’re there – that’s definitely on the list).  And maybe a quick bus trip to Toledo?  Spain is our oyster (for 3 days, at least…).

Friday to Sunday:  Back in Paris, to drink a couple more glasses of wine, to savor a little more beauty, to eat one last pain au chocolat, and to make any last memories that will have to tide us over until our next trip back.

Clearly, we’re still working out the details, though trying not to go overboard with our planning (any good vacation has room for relaxation and spontaneity).  All I know is, in a little over two weeks, I could be walking along the Seine, one hand holding Shane’s hand, the other hand holding a crepe filled with Nutella.  A glorious thought…