The Adventures of Bonnie Muddle

I am in lourve

FRANCE | Sunday, 18 November 2007 | Views [947]

Now it wasn't until I actually went to Paris that I understood why people fall in love in this city, why people love with this city and quite simply why people associate love with Paris at all. I was of the understanding it had something to do with some french/english translation problem between the lourve and love...

It actually took a little bit of time for the attraction. It wasn't necessarily love at first sight for me and Paris.

I was introduced to Paris after a whirlwind Contiki tour, the previous night spent in a (former) prison in Switzerland and a first stop at a pungent Parisian perfumery.

The Eiffel tower by night really was the first to tug at my heart strings. Despite the looming clouds, drizzle and gale force winds, the Eiffel tower was magnificent. Lit up like a candle on a cake. Everyone who stood beneath the grand structure couldn't help but be in awe.

Here we were being hustled into an elevator the excitement of an impending first kiss bubbling inside me and I stand transfixed at the giant clogs churning and beyond the glittering lights of the city of Paris.

Finally we reach the last stop. Almost blown away not just by the dazzling view but also by the severe winds, causing me to cling to my new raspberry beret (the kind you find in a second hand store-sorry couldn't resist!). It is breathtaking.

I feel flighty and elated- the hungover of a first date. My first date with Paris.

I spend the next day zooming around attempting to take in all the 'sights' between rain and dark clouds. Getting lost in the expanse of the Lourve, ordering over-priced coffee and crepes on side-walk cafes, taking in the erriness and beauty of the Notre Dame, experiencing famous French toasted sandwich served by a slapstick waiter and standing in wonderment at the kaleidoscope of light shining through the stained glass at the Sainte Chapelle.

That night we are off to Montmartre. Outside the Moulin Rouge we re-enact can-can girls and then like frivolous giddy girls we dash to the Irish pub across the road.

Once our stomachs start to grumble...we find a crowded little cafe (it seems to be the way in Paris- everyone likes to bunch close together in a small vicinity, spilling out onto the sidewalks). We like the French bunch together and order some wine to warm up. Snails are ordered and French soup is slurped.

After dinner, we give into Divina's persuasion to brave the cold and walk to up through the winding cobble-stoned streets of the Montmartre district to the Sacre-Coeur church. The most magical place in Paris.

The beauty took my breath away. I wanted to say "I love you" but didn't know how. Instead I said nothing and felt the intoxication of the city overwhelm my speechless self.

The next day I had to myself. All to myself. Just me and Paris.

I slept in, washed all my clothes and had a decent shower (simple things please a traveler). I got ready for my day in Paris...I basked in the sun that finally now shone on the City, I spent my time wondering around the city, I walked through the Champs de Mars and watched a group of small children play a game of socceor below the Eiffel Tower. I sat on the grass and looked on at couples laughing at each others whispered words and tourists taking photos with the famous icon. I myself attempt several times to take a self portrait with the Eiffel tower.

I walk endlessly, wanting to stop for a coffee...but with too many choices I keep on walking trying to find the perfect place to plant myself and people watch. I finally find a little Creperie cafe, the brightly colored flower pots draw me in and I sit and watch and sip on my warm cappuccino.

Later I find myself back beneath the Sacre-Coeur. The sweet smell of warm sugar leaves me with a crepe in my hand. I delight in being by myself. I delight in watching the happy children spin endlessly on the merry-go-round. The sun is getting warmer and brighter as the day comes to an end. I climb up the many stairs to the first stage beneath the church. People hustle around and watch as a puppeter puts on a show with the City as his backdrop.

After the show finishes I wonder to the second stage. Where people all crammed together sit on the cement stairs and listen to someone sing in broken English to 'fast car' by Tracey Chapman. Even the misguided lyrics didn't deter me from enjoying every part of the performance.

I decided to walk through the grand entrance of the Church...hundreds of candles provide just enough light to guide the way around the expansive exquisiteness of the Sacre Coeur.
Above the alter, a gold- etched Jesus gazes down upon the audience below.

I arrive in time for the Saturday night mass. Now feeling quite overwhelmed with unexplained feelings of happiness, sadness, appreciation and reflectiveness...I take a seat on a cold wooden pew and wait for the mass to begin.

As the clock strikes six...the nuns emerge from the back of the hall and stand in perfect choir lines. A chorus of heavenly (pardon the pun) voices fill the church, their voices echo and vibrate throughout each pore of the Sacre Coeur.

I am transfixed and now overwhelmed by pure peace, so much so it is hard to leave the beauty of the church.

Once I finally make my way out of the giant arches of the Sacre Coeur, the light has dimmed and the sun is slowly setting, illuminating the Eiffel Tower through a misty haze set over the city.

I am here. I can't rid the smile from my face. I am in love.

I wonder through the hustle and bustle of the Montmartre area, as the dinner crowds take their seats on the sidewalks of quaint candle-lit cafes, bottles of wine are opened and artists approach the people offering sketches to encapsulate the occasion. Lovers warm one another in the now chilly air, immersed and lost in each others eyes.

I too am spellbound by all that I see, I look out at the beauty all around me and find a small voice from inside whisper, "I love you Paris".