I flew into Charles De Gaulle airport from New York via Dublin (scoring an extra stamp for my passport) and found myself at customs about to wet my pants. No it was not the fact that I was finally in France after learning the language for seven years that was making me shuffle forward in the line, I had simply left it too long on the plane. I went to get up to go to the toilet but was told “we were preparing for landing” and to remain seated. Damn. I make it through customs (just) and bolt in search of a bathroom. Now in Australia if I wanted to indicate the need to keep going straight ahead I would use an arrow pointing up to signify this. Not the French. I saw an arrow pointing down next to the word toilettes so I dutifully went down the escalator with coat, hand luggage and passport precariously balanced on my fidgeting and someone desperate body. Australian girl pees her pants first time in Paris were the imagined headlines. Alas les toilettes were not down the escalator but ahead of where I had been standing, just up the hall. The stupid French use the arrows interchangeably to indicate the “keep going straight ahead” direction, much to the confusion of the poor tourists.
However, having peed and located my bag (ahem, my life) I set off to find the train. Having panicked and payed for expensive taxi rides in Boston and New York I was determined to find my way into Paris inexpensively. I had googled Charles de Gaulle to St Paul Metro and had found excellent info. I followed the crowd and boarded the shuttle to change terminals and arrived at the train station. I practiced my sentence for “I would like to go to St Paul Metro, how do I buy a ticket?” and approached the information man. The man in front of me asked a similar question in broken French and was replied to in English. I spun out my question and, to my delight, was replied to in French! I quickly switched on the French training and told myself I understood him. I then said “sur le map” which is not French at all, but he obligingly circled the stops for me. I fluently asked for and received my ticket and boarded my train – sincerely hoping I was not off to Germany or Belgium.
A group of young black French youths in fake designer white t-shirts were surrounding the only spare seat and I squeezed in with my bag. I couldn’t understand them but remembered learning in high school french how the suburbs have a common vernacular that tourists can often not understand. I did however hear “la roux” which means redhead. I also heard them laugh after. I was less than impressed. One of them said something to me as he got off the train which might have been something about smiling but I didn’t quite catch it. Maybe he noticed my fixed expression of determination (maybe it was fear) and the white knuckles clutching my travel wallet…
Anyway, after navigating and negotiating the airport and train system, changing onto another line in a huuuuuge metro station (Châtlet Les Halles) I popped up to street level in the Marais district. I took one look at the street with its very ‘French’ buildings, roads, street signs and shops and a huge smile broke across my face. I was in Paris! Finally! After beginning French as a subject in 2000 here I was nine years later on. And I was very happy about it. The hostel where my friend Hannah and I were staying in was just around the corner and my scribbled down version of googlemaps got me there. I was half way through paying when Hannah turned up at the door. I left the baffled receptionist in possession of my unsigned for credit receipt and ran to the door! We squealed, we hugged, we even jumped up and down on the spot. Eventually the French receptionist got a little shirty and demanded I return to the desk to sign. Woops. But it really was soooo nice to see someone I knew from home and to not have to introduce myself! We lugged our bags the four flights of stairs to our rooms and collapsed on our beds. Phew. Relief. I was in Paris (!) with a friend (from home!) and I had made it here on the train. Yay!!
I was a wee bit jetlagged but made it out of the hostel in search of dinner. We ordered in French to the hot Parisien waiter but sadly he replied in English! The next morning we went on the New Europe Sandeman’s free walking tour. This was fantastic! We walked to all the famous monuments and instead of gawking at them through a camera with no actual knowledge of what we were looking at the guides explained everything in detail which was actually really interesting. Apart from Notre Dame and the usual highlights we also saw the fountain in The Devil Wears Prada which Anne Hathaway throws her phone into! I got overly excited about this and Hannah got a photo of be “throwing” my phone away. After tipping for the tour (they are basically free!) we caught the metro up to Montmatre and Sacre Coeur. This area is really touristy but is very cool as well. After trekking up the steep streets we made it to Sacre Coeur. This very large domed church is pretty impressive! The domes are huge and the view from the steps! Wow! I didn’t end up climbing the Eiffel Tower but I think the view from Sacre Coeur is good enough; you could see the entire city.
It turned out that my non-communicative brother Mike was actually in Paris the same time as me! Despite initially not wanting to travel with his little sister he must have decided that my language skills might come in handy… Anyway, we met up with him in Marais and went out for dinner. Mike was having the same dish as me so I said “le même chose pour lui” which I hope means he’ll have the same, but the (again) very attractive waiter laughed and shook his head, saying, “no, no, no, he must try” and taught Mike how to say what he wanted, it was all pretty amusing.
Hannah and I next made the trip to the Arc de Triomphe and Les Champs Elysée. We took the normal photos of us under the arch then set off to shop! Now being probably one of the most expensive shopping strips in the world it was no surprise that we failed to buy anything. I was actually a little scared to go into some of the swankier shops considering I was wearing shorts and flip flops! (Sorry I can’t call them thongs again yet!) I even made Hannah stop at one point as I had to reapply my sunscreen! How stylish was I!
Hannah and I also went to the Sorbonne University where both of us had once dreamed of studying…then made our way to the Luxembourg Gardens. While these gardens are beautiful, spacious and containing a very nice palace the best part was an unexpected Firemen’s Parade! We were sitting in conveniently placed deck chairs admiring the lake when we heard parade music. Hundreds of firemen then paraded past us in shiny metal helmets! Bizarre is the only word for it!
Another highlight was our trip to Shakespeare and Company’s bookshop. It’s the oldest English Language bookshop in Paris and is a fantastic place packed full of old and new titles. Upstairs there is an old library section and fold down beds for writers who live there! I was tempted to stay for a bit…
Hannah then left for her French cooking school and I caught the metro to meet my parents after three months away.
