Tales of travels

The rows of Haussmann’s with their immaculate balconies, the leafy tree lined boulevards, the tourist landmarks we all know so well. The city of love and of light, a city overflowing with culture, a literary and artistic haven and my home for the next eight months for my first time living abroad.

In the first month of my time in Paris, I would use the word ‘home’ very loosely. I wouldn’t usually describe a 12 bed dorm in a hostel as home. Being woken up at 2am when six Australians was certainly less than ideal when working in three French Primary schools. Hostel life, to anyone that has not experienced it, can be very tiring. Especially when your particular hostel contains some of the best friends you’ve ever made, who insist you come to the bar and drink with them most nights until you’re willing to embarrass yourself at karaoke. But that time in the hostel thrust me into my new temporary life and gave me life- long friends to explore Paris with.

To say I now know Paris like the back of my hand would be a horrible cliché so I will refrain and merely say that I have acquired certain Paris related skills. I can now navigate my way seamlessly through all the tourist hotspots having shown numerous people around. Need a guided tour of Paris for a first timer? Come to me and I’ll even throw in some things you wouldn’t see unless you lived there. I also don’t like to brag but I am pretty well versed in Parisien. Although I spoke French before my trip, speaking to the capital’s inhabitants is an altogether different experience. I would tend to advise one of two approaches; either great Yoda-like patience, or if that fails just try and outdo them in the rudeness stakes!

My year has been crazy. I have done everything imaginable in Paris. I have bar hopped round Bastille and ended up on a friend of a friend’s boat on Canal St Martin at a party which finished at 9am. I ate the best falafel I have ever tasted practically every weekend in the Marais. I was both a princess and a pirate when I went to Disneyland for the first time. I pretended I was exploring 20’s Paris with Hemingway and Fitzgerald whilst meandering through Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

But one of the best feelings I’ve had was the day when I got horribly lost, walked for hours until my feet ached and then turned a corner only to see the top of the Eiffel Tower just poking out above the slate roofs to remind me that I live here. In the greatest city. And I realised, Paris je t’aime…vraiment.