One early autumn day when I lived in Istanbul, I woke up feeling a little rebellious and spontaneous so I decided to book myself a ticket for a solo weekend getaway to Paris (which I don’t think my boyfriend at the time appreciated). After that, I listened to non-stop French music and said random phrases to myself as I diddled around the house baking or choosing an outfit or whatever. I couldn’t wait.
This song was one of my favorites, for obvious reasons.
Paris is so beautiful. Truly. I decided to start at the Louvre because it’s so iconic. I’ve been inside before. You could probably spend a week inside and miss a great deal. It wasn’t a good fit for my short weekend getaway.
I walked down the park path to the Seine then made my way over the bridge where lovers commemorate their love with locks (Pont de l’Archevêché) to the Musée d’Orsay.
That place is FULL of astonishing famous and wonderful works. I loved the restaurant behind the face of the massive clock the most I think, and the Monet exhibit next to it.
From there, I made my way to the Cathedral de Notre Dame. I missed the gargoyles. Again. I decided to return in the morning.
I went into a fancy department store and looked at all of the cute, delicate goods. I was très impressed but not rich enough to buy any of it. I took a long, long walk to the canals and cherche-d for a little café run by a pastry chef who had turned his sights to gluten free goodies. What could be better?? I always feel so touched when someone makes gluten free things, like they did it just for little old me. I was too late for lots of the pastries but there was one last éclair au chocolat for you can guess who. I was overcome with joy and surprise at how very delicious it could be.
I bought a cheap bouteille of wine thinking I would take it back with me and didn’t remember until that night that I hadn’t booked any check-in luggage. I decided maybe I could ship it back to Istanbul so I visited the post office in a corner of the Louvre and asked about the rate—70 euros. That’s about 12 times what I paid for it so I thought to myself, “Alors, aujourd’hui je bois du vin!” I went into a dark restaurant with red and white booths and asked them “ouvrez, s’il vous plaît” and explained my whole predicament, again en français. They thought I was rather comique and obliged. I poured some of the bottle into a water bottle because I felt odd tipping the whole glass bottle up to lips in public.
Then I went and joined the queue to look out over all of Paris with the adorably eerie gargoyles. It was a long walk of cold, narrow, winding stone steps up to the top. I was starting to feel a little afraid of being trapped when I saw some sunlight floating in. I crested the top step and was amazed by the panoramic views.
To me the gargoyles were almost admiring the view in their own crotchety way. I joined them in surveying the scene, but more admiringly. I had a hard time leaving to make room for the next batch of tourists. Can’t I just stay up here? Maybe dejeuner?
Next, I went to Montmartre. It’s such an adorable place full of fun little colorful shops. It’s hard not to walk down the cobbled street and imagine being a chic Parisienne stopping in for a little something to eat or a coffee. Unfortunately, that couldn’t be me though! I had a plane to catch back to Istanbul and my own life. It was nice to take a break though, and a glimpse at another world.
I can’t resist these last 2 metro pictures. I love riding a metro. I feel self-sufficient but also efficient. Also, I don’t know what it is about it, but this graffiti image really sticks in my mind.