Wednesday, October 08, 2014

Paris Returns

Every journey of a thousand miles begins with a first....freak-out that I don't have the visa I need as I am heading to the airport.

Just a minor scare, and it ended up being fine.

The flight to Paris was comfortable and uneventful.  Air France has all the comforts and charms that American carriers don't offer, and it made the long journey far more pleasant.  I sat next to a girl in high school on to Rabat to study Arabic for the year.  I pontificated to the budding public diplomat about the way the world goes round.  I think amidst all my yarn spinning, she was listening and taking note on how to get out in the world.

I returned in the darkness to Paris, and meandered my way through the airport and on the train to Gare du Nord.  In a light rain, I wandered to my hotel in Montmartre as the morning commuters set out.  Amazing that at nearly 8am, it was still so dark.  Not even the sun can be bothered to rise in Paris when it doesn't feel the urge.

I slept most of the morning, and ventured out in the grey to a bistro for some French Onion soup and a glass of bordeaux.  Such is my French breakfast.  I sat outside the little bistro, so pleased to be back in the city I love so.  Paris is in a different season than my summer sabbatical, and so am I.  I intently people-watched as the dapper French passed by in their scarves and jackets--a far cry from the summer frocks once adorned.  A metal;ic grey clung to the sky, and gave the manicured facades a stark appeal.

Paris, I missed you so.

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