Paris When It Drizzles
James and I first tested our travel compatibility with a short trip to Paris in March. After very narrowly boarding our train in true student fashion, we settled down for our just-over-2 hour Eurostar journey from King's Cross to Gare de Nord. We bought a carnet of metro tickets to last us the trip, and made the short journey to our Airbnb in Montmartre. The apartment was as picturesque as we could've hoped, with balcony windows opening onto a colourful, plant-covered courtyard.
We were a stone's throw from the base of the formidable hill which bears the Sacré Cœur, so our first order of business was to climb. We emerged and found ourselves torn between the beauty of the visage of the building itself, and the enchanting view of the Paris skyline in its pre-dusk incarnation.
Once the light had faded and the view had dissipated, we descended and made for the local market to gather supplies for our feast. Inspired by the bustling food culture that thrives in Paris, James endeavoured, with resounding success, to make a classic carbonara. It is now a staple in our diet. We gorged on the creamy spaghetti, and supplemented it with fine French wine and a bottle of champagne we had saved for the occasion.
I want to take a moment to just talk about food. If you have ever had the opportunity to visit France, I expect you'll agree when I say that the quality of food there is truly phenomenal. Our simple home-cooked dinner was exquisite thanks to the freshness and succulence of the ingredients. The following morning we arose and popped down to the market again to buy croissants for breakfast. We devoured them alongside the best butter I've ever tasted, Bon Maman apricot jam, plain yogurt, fresh kiwis, and a glass of juice. Such a delicious and balanced meal set us on the right track for a full day of exploring the City of Love.
First on our list was the Musée d'Orsay, which I had failed to visit on my two previous visits to Paris, despite entry being free for students. This former train station was first famous for the dramatic 1895 train derailment which resulted in a locomotive dangling through the front window of the station. It is now better known for its shattering collection of impressive artworks. Some of the most notable artists represented include Impressionists like Monet and Renoir, and Post-Impressionists such as Van Gogh. I am particularly fond of this Fauvist painting of London by Andre Derain (1906).
One feature which James especially appreciates is the high concentration of sculpture on display. While he himself is a painter, he believes sculpture is an underrepresented and under-appreciated art form. He finds it more intellectually stimulating to observe, not only because of its inherent dynamism -it occupies space, while paintings do not-, but because he is more easily able to grasp the creative process for paintings. A painter begins with a blank canvas; a sculptor begins with a slap of stone. We were both enraptured by this sculpture by Ernest Barrias entitled 'Les Chasseurs d'Alligator' ('Alligator Hunters') or 'Les Nubiens' (1894).
Once we had seen all there was to see at the Musée d'Orsay, we ventured out to the riverbank and followed it diligently. We passed only a few of the usual riverside vendors, touting vintage books and prints alongside Eiffel Tower keychains and other Parisian paraphernalia. The sky was dappled grey with thick passing clouds, and a breeze ruffled us as we walked, but the affect was in no way dreary. We eventually approached the haunting and proud Notre Dame, which we acknowledged as a familiar friend, with a smile and a nod. We carried on, however, as we had passed its way times before.
After grabbing street food for a quick lunch, we reached our second destination: the English language bookshop Shakespeare and Co.
This minuscule and unsuspecting 17th century building has been home to a labyrinth of books since 1951, but the origins of the company date back to 1919. Legend has it the first shop was opened to service the English-speaking Lost Generation intelligentsia located in Paris. The bookstore has many traditions, including that of the 'Tumbleweeds,' young artists and writers who are permitted to sleep in the shop with the conditions of reading one book a day, providing some help in the shop, and writing a one-page autobiography before they leave. The philosophy of Shakespeare and Co. is embodied in the founder's notable words: 'Be not inhospitable to strangers lest they be angels in disguise.' I would recommend visiting this one-of-a-kind independent bookstore to any bibliophiles visiting Paris.
Fatigued from hours and miles of wandering, we retired to our Airbnb for a nap before venturing out into the night. We strolled the fashionable and lively streets of Montmartre, overlooked by the Sacré Cœur, and eventually settled on a traditional French bistro for dinner. Though we had our hearts set on Moules Frites, the seasons were against us. Instead we enjoyed an appetiser of escargot, the iconic French dish of snails served in a buttery, garlic deliciousness. James and I ordered steak in different sauces, both of which were delightful. We concluded our meal with espresso and a serving of divine mango sorbet, before picking our way home through the lamplit cobblestone passageways.
Our second and final morning in Paris we had another croissant breakfast before heading our to wander once more. ~Fun Fact: Did you know croissants originated in Turkey? Their crescent shape traditionally celebrates the crescent moon in Islamic culture.~
James and I chose a quintessentially Parisian cafe, and spent the last hours before our train lounging in the March sunshine. We began with lattes but quickly upgraded to Old Fashioneds, the classic cocktail of whiskey and bitters. Inspired by the atmosphere and energy of the city around us, James wrote a short story and I penned a short poem:
'Paris is a city of movement
No one rushes but all is alight
with motion
A city claimed by those unabashed
to be alive
It's as though the city drank in
today's sunlight in its morning
coffee and is now exuding
liveliness on the timid March
sun's behalf
Whether they're hustling, strolling, or loitering
Each body is electric
Their buzz and hum bouncing
off one stoic building
with corroded shutters to another &
back again indefinitely'
- J.R.
We packed up our bags and arrived at the train station an hour early this time around, wishing in every minute of it that we were still exploring the higgledy-piggledy streets and not heading home to lectures, seminars, and essay deadlines.
