last Thursday, I went to Paris. At first I was excited about the potential to write about the different foods I was going to try, my observations of the French culture and that whole “French paradox” thing. I spent my first day there, Friday, November 13, in a sleep deprived awe of just how beautiful the city was and how I was never too far from the now familiar scent sweetly wafting from the patisseries (can we bottle that somehow?).
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zero hours of sleep, too excited to care (11/13/15, morning)
After walking around the city for hours, sitting at the cafes for dinner, dessert and wine, I went to bed early, hoping to get some good sleep for another day of exploring. I always put my phone on silent when I go to bed, but with the ringer on if my dad, sister or mom calls because to me, that would usually signal something important.
around 11:30 p.m. Paris time my dad calls and I’m awoken from a dead sleep. He asked if I was ok because “I’m watching the TV and they’re saying people are being attacked in Paris.” Now, my dad tends to exaggerate things so I assured him I was fine, in my hotel room, everything was great. It wasn’t until we hung up and I realized a ton of missed text messages, Facebook messages, tweets, Instagram comments, etc. were waiting for me that I knew something was very wrong. What? Why is everyone asking if I’m ok? Paris is under siege? Terrorism? What are all of those sirens? The news headlines hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t familiar with Paris yet and didn’t know where the bombs, shootings and hysteria were in relation to me and had no idea if it was over or just starting. It was terrifying.
long story short, I spent the next several hours refreshing news sites, messaging with family and friends and calling the U.S. Consulate to figure out just what I was supposed to do. The basic message; listen to French authorities and stay inside. I slept a few hours and woke up to a Paris forever changed. I didn’t know if we were allowed to go outside, though news that many (or most?) of the terrorists had died was somewhat comforting. I nixed my plan for a morning run and had breakfast in the hotel to assess the situation and figure out what to do next. Though the mood was somber, I started seeing people on the streets and decided the only thing I could do was stay, support the city, and most importantly, not be afraid.
I put on my running shoes without much of a plan other than to be careful (or “watch my six” as my dad told me) and see things. Museums and some stores were closed, but a lot of cafes and shops were open and I meandered my way around Saint Germain des Pres to the Eiffel Tower and then along the Seine, stopping for lunch at a warm café and then some hot chocolate. I never felt unsafe and could tell the Parisians (and other tourists) had the same idea as me – we are not afraid. To me that sends a strong message to any and all who are watching.
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#love (11/14/15, afternoon)
the strong feeling of solidarity continued throughout my stay, and reminded me of how Boston, and the whole country really, came together after the marathon bombings. It all culminated during a mass of which I happened to stumble upon at the Cathedral Notre Dame de Paris on Sunday. Not a religious person in the least, the mass had just started and the beautiful music and cathedral itself drew me in. Maybe it was a bit of sleep deprivation, but as I took my seat I felt a release as my “survival mode” clicked off. The tears soon followed, and kept spilling out for the people and the city of Paris, and really life in general, which I am reminded again is all too precious.
I’m completely overwhelmed by the messages of concern and caring via all forms of social media, texts and calls that I got while away – as independent as I am, it really helped to know I wasn’t truly alone.
yeah, I didn’t mention this before, but I went to Paris totally alone. Ironically, I did it in an effort to see and experience more of the world, something that has largely escaped me up until now, usually due to in part to fear. When fear takes over our lives – whether it’s fear of flying (ME), trying new things, traveling alone, telling people how you feel – we can miss out on SO much. And as it would be, these are the things that matter the most. Back when I booked this trip a few months ago, it was a pledge to myself to see everything I’ve been missing out on for way too long. I knew it would change me, but had no idea at the time just how much.
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cathedral notre dame de paris on a beautiful day (11/15/15, afternoon)
*don’t worry, I’ll talk about the food in my next post Image may be NSFW.
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