Travel Solo: Paris, Part III
My adventurous and glamorous friend Grace travels solo a lot. She's wild, spontaneous, and fearless, while I'm a bit of a planner and a slow-and-steady type. She's much more spontaneous than I, opting to forgo Part II, the logistics part of the Travel Solo series and skip to Part III; Being There. Despite our contrary travel styles, we agreed that traveling alone can often times open doors to exciting, new friendships and chance meetings.
I've been on adventures where the people you meet can catalyze a personal metamorphosis, or where those connections made seem fated and end up as lasting friendships. It's easy to miss these opportunities and it's important to stay open to them…but it's also important to take a moment to just be in your skin where you are and live and breathe. Both of us, regardless of our personal travel styles, relished the time alone.
For the most part, I wandered around the city with eyes wide and jaw dropped, collecting moments to sink back into during my everyday life. That saying, "collect moments, not things," became a mantra for my solo venture, leaving my suitcase light and my worldview filled. Instead of the top ten sites, clothing stores, or cafes to visit, I present… Paris Top Ten Moments by Keli Campbell.
FIRST SIGHT OF THE EIFFEL TOWER
The first time I saw the Eiffel Tower in person, I was 18 years old living in Spain on a study abroad program. I caught a train to Paris with eight or so other girls and spent most of the trips wishing I had gone solo. It had little to do with the girls and more to do with my own desire to wander freely, sit quietly and write in my then surf-brand-sticker-clad journal, and reflect on the grand and minute happenings of life in a world so far from my own.
But I hadn't yet developed the confidence to break from the crowd, so I went with the group and while I loved our big dinner tables and cramming all together in one metro car, I'm pretty sure my desire to travel back to Paris by myself was born on the floor of a hotel room stuffed with college girls.
I peeked into that sticker-covered tome only to find my experience of seeing the Tower for the first time mirrored my experience the second time. I rounded a street corner only to have what was once considered a monstrosity of a sculpture fill my entire view plane and stopped in my tracks. This is Paris. And it's awesome, in the actual sense of the word, surfer dialect be damned.
I found myself drawn to the water's edge every day. If I could get from one place to the next by way of the Seine river, I did.
Although the river's history leans slightly morbid - after Joan of Arc was burned at the stake, her ashes were thrown in the Seine; the river was a popular place for murderers to dispose of their victims…ya know, that kind of thing - it's one of the loveliest places to stroll.
With the introduction of Les Berges, a newly constructed pedestrian path along the banks, walking the Seine has become an experience complete with revolving art displays and a cafes scattered along the banks.
After a particularly long, over-stimulated day, I found myself sitting at the Terrasse de Faust nestled under Pont Alexandre III, sipping a Peroni in the sunshine and thought, 'this is a moment.'
BICYCLES & MACARONS AT VERSAILLES
I vacillated between dying to see Versailles and casting it off as a pain in the ass. One morning I set out to see what the day would bring and it was so lovely outside, all I could think about was the scene from Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette, where the lovely M.A. and her crew sit on the steps overlooking the canals to watch the sunrise after a night of lavish partying. I had to be there. So, I hopped the intricately decorated train to Porte de Versailles and voila, I arrived.
I hopped off the adorable train and headed straight for the gardens, bought an undersized, overpriced cafe creme and rented a bike. Perfection.
I peddled along the canals, marveling at the sheer size of the property, imagining what it must have been like before the revolution. Love her or hate her, Marie Antoinette still fascinates us to this day.
So it was in her honor I picked up a lovely box of pastel Laduree macarons, found a perch overlooking the vast, fairyland gardens, and toasted the Queen.
On Wednesdays, the Louvre stays open late. Most Parisians are well into their dinner hour and many tourists have already called it a day leaving the halls of the Louvre relatively quiet. I arrived just in time to catch the sunset from inside the pyramid. Even though my very own lanai has one of the best sunset views around, something about a bit of Regular Me and Paris Me meeting in an intricately designed prism resonated with meaning. I was right where I was supposed to be.
I wasn't alone wandering the halls of the museum, but a reverent mood settled over all of us late-night patrons. Even when I went to visit the Louvre's resident celebrity Mona Lisa (or the 'Ol' Girl' as I heard one sassy American tourist call her) with her crowds and cameras, everyone spoke in hushed voices, oohing and ahhhing in whispers.
BOOKS, COFFEE, & BLANK PAGES
The first day I visited Shakespeare and Company, the famous English language bookstore in the Latin Quarter, it was packed full of people. I love a good bookstore wandering, but when the human element outweighs the charm of stacks of books, it dampens the experience slightly. On my last day in Paris, I wandered the Quarter, and found myself at the doors of Shakespeare & Co once again. I bypassed the new books section and headed upstairs to the "library."
I had completely missed the cubby hole built specifically to house a chair, a desk, and a typewriter for patrons to type out thoughts, poems, and letters and share. It's like when you're a kid and you build a fort so amazing, you can't believe no one has ever done it before…I felt just like that sitting in that chair, typing out my contribution to the wall of words. And only if you ever make it to that tiny cubby nestled snugly under the "Be not inhospitable to strangers…" quote will you have a chance to see what I wrote.
As luck would have it Odette, the quaintest, cutest, most delicious of pastry cafes, is located just around the block from the book store. Have a moment and top it with a coffee and a cream puff…that's the stuff dreams are made of.
I had promised my dear, spelunking loving friend Mary that I would visit the catacombs. It wasn't really high up on my list, but I was in Paris for Halloween and thought it appropriate for the holiday.
It's not for the faint of heart for a few reasons; I waited an hour in line and I was there a 20 minutes before it even opened. It's dark and cramped and cold. It's full of freakin' bones.
I didn't expect to be so moved by being faced with such a concrete symbol of my own mortality. I crossed the threshold and felt overwhelmed by joy and sorrow for both the lives lived and the lives lost, whose very bones lay in front of me made beautiful by artists. I couldn't decide if it was ghastly and morbid or hauntingly poetic. Either way I had to stop and catch my breath, pause in a moment of respect, and give thanks for my living, breathing existence…at least for now.
I heard about O Chateau while listening to Rick Steves on NPR… I know, not glamorous or hip, but whatever. I love Rick Steves even if I'm supposed to be part of the wanderlusters, I think Rick is Rad.
Olivier Magney, the proprietor, is a young sommelier who set out to make wine accessible, so he started a tasting room and wine bar in Paris. I had no idea what to expect, but after hearing his interview on the radio, it was a must-do on my list.
I walked in the lovely, dark paneled room and was surprised to see how crowded it was, but even more surprised to see Olivier Magny himself behind the bar. He greeted me, asked if I was here for a tasting, to which I said 'duh.' We chatted while I waited for my class "Wines: Off the Beaten Path" to begin.
Magny is one person who gets counted in my moments from Paris as he was responsible for the fun, energetic experience I had while learning about French wine - one had come from a vineyard once cared for by the Romans but then abandoned, only to be resurrected in the last 20 years. Another was made completely without machinery or modern technology. It was nerding out at its best and all while a little tipsy and surrounded by cheerful, knowledgeable people. And sure, maybe a I collected two bottles of wine that added a bit of weight to my suitcase, but technically, they are still moments because it was just as fun sharing them with my friends and family at home.
*Vist O Chateau and grab a copy of Magny's "Into Wine."
It seemed every day I spent in Paris, I happened upon a beautiful garden. I found myself gravitating towards the gardens for another opportunity to observe and ponder. There are too many moments to share, but sitting in the brisk Fall air sipping an Angelina hot chocolate in the Jardin du Tuileries was one of my favorites. Or feeling a little Hemingway and jotting down story ideas while in Jardin du Luxembourg might be another.
STAINED GLASS AT SAINTE CHAPELLE
I think the reason we love books and art is because we can see and feel the work, love, and energy that has gone into each piece. In Sainte Chapelle, the stained glass windows tell stories from the bible. The stories are depicted in fifteen panels each 50 feet high. Standing in the quiet, watching the sunlight burst through the clouds and color the room with a myriad of hues could inspire reverence in anyone of any religion.
I had more than one moment watching the Eiffel tower burst into sparkles on my trip. The first night I watched it from behind the carousel at the Trocadero. The next from a random street where I could just see the very top.
On the night I spent wandering the Louvre, I found myself walking along the Seine towards Ponte Alexandre III. I checked my watch - I had 3 minutes to make the quarter mile to the bridge to catch the sparkles. So I ran. I suppose a 12 minute-mile isn't super fast, but running in boots and a coat…well, it's just laughable. But I made it just in time.
Walking around in the rain and ducking into Merci Used Book Cafe.
Thinking with the Thinker
Flat White at Coutume Cafe
Champagne at the cafe under the clock face at Musee d'Orsay
My very first Kir at Le Select
Sunshine on the Isle St. Louis
Every Parisian door along the way
Making the rounds at Water Lilies & the Frida Kahlo exhibit
