Sunday, November 17, 2013

Paris

I had breakfast at the station in Brussels and was chatted up by a 58-year-old single mother who told me her life story. And her son's life story who is 19 and a somewhat pro-basketball player. She barely took a breath and ignored her coffee and soup until they were cold, and then missed her train. Apparently she had a lot to share. She also had a lot of unsolicited advice for me after asking how old I was. She was surprised (that I'm 32) and then lectured me on how great it was that I was enjoying life and that I had plenty of time to settle down. A striking contrast from the conversation the night before with a 20-something roommate who told me she was traveling the world now because once she's 30 she won't be able to go on any more adventures. I didn't have the energy or care to tell her that turning 30 didn't have to be an adventure death sentence.

The train ride from Brussels to Paris was only about an hour, a very smooth ride. Once arriving in Paris' Gare du Nord station I got slightly confused on my ~20 minute walk to the hotel, but made it pretty easily. I hung out for a bit, people-watched and read more about Paris from my guidebook. Once Jenna and Sophie came back from lunch we hit the town together. We tried to go to the Catacombs first since it's a sight that Sophie has never been to and, well, she didn't want to go to the Eiffel Tower or other typical sights. The line was too long around the time of the last admission so we walked around the Bastille neighborhood instead. After that we walked through the Luxembourg gardens on our way to Blvd St. Michel for some window shopping. Jenna got some fancy boots. Next we had delicious savory & sweet crepes at Creperie des Arts before heading to a Bach concert at Sainte Chapelle, which was very special and intimate.

We ended the night at Sophie's friend's apartment in Montparnasse where she had a few people over for champagne, including the artist of a print she just bought along with the gallery owner. It was fun. Heading to bed reeking of an ashtray. I'm in Paris!

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