Cieux

(Seine!)

D'accord, Paris. I'm going to stroll through these posts slowly, savoring each recent memory so as to not forget. And so the recap begins with Tuesday, November 24, which found us traveling on a high speed Thalys train from Brussels' Midi station to Gare du Nord in Paris, France. We arrived wide-eyed at approximately 11.05, somewhat fearful of a potential language barrier, however altogether thrilled at the more foreign spin this leg would put on our vacation! I repeat: it's unwise to haul, drag, tote, muscle (what have you) large luggage to Europe. Yet we did, and we feared the transition from Thalys to the Metro in Paris. Fears? Unfounded. The biggest issue we noticed was that the ticket machines for the Metro were unfriendly toward American debit cards. We desired a book of 10 train passes, but were only able to purchase a ride apiece with what euro we had on us (ATMs in Europe spit out 50 E bills, so we were either armed with single euro coins, miscellaneous change or big bills). Upon acquiring our single ride tickets, we very briskly and smoothly found our Metro train, and within no time at all we were traveling on the brilliant public transportation system to our St. Germain des Pres neighborhood (the 6th arrondissement) on the Left Bank. It's impossible to describe our emergence from the subway. My arms were sore from grappling with the Too Big Bag up and down stairs. My head was a little groggy from a combination of Belgian beers from the night before and the gradual creep of jet lag. But none of these sensations mattered, for there we were in Paris, with the lovely white noise of French language being spoken around us as we gazed at the French urbanity bustling through its Tuesday. Spoiler alert: the neighborhood where we stayed was my favorite part of Paris. I will puff up my chest to stake this claim: I selected the neighborhood, or the arrondissement, even the hotel itself! Craig thanked me several times over the course of the next few days, which I appreciated. Typically when we travel, it's all on him (which works well, because he likes to research in advance, whereas I just like to go see and do!) But with the move and job transitioning and everything else we've had in store, it worked out that I was able to research our lodgings in Paris at greater length.*Craig is the cardinal direction guru in this relationship. You can blindfold him and spin him in circles and he tends to still find his way. However, for some mysterious reason, our hotel (Hotel Clement on Rue Clement, a quite ditty[small] side street) threw him for a cardinal loop, and we were in constant confusion as to where we were (just within the immediate vicinity of our hotel). But visiting Paris is simple: you walk, walk, and walk a little more, and somehow crack the code! We checked in early, immediately employing "en anglais, s'il vous plait" at the front desk. Our room number was 214, and the stairs to the right of the desk were narrow and spiraled somewhat, but we were instructed that the "lift" could be found up the first set of stairs. This particular lift would hold nothing more than our two Too Big Bags, so we shoved them both into the lift, then I darted up to meet them on the 2nd floor (although in Europe, ground level is considered "0", floor 2 is actually 1, basement or below ground is "-1"...I think I have that right?)...and we somehow made it into 214 which enchanted us instantly. The bed filled a majority of the room, akin to hotel rooms here in New York City, but the room held a certain charm that was the icing on our European cake. The bathroom and closet doors were adjacent to one another; the bathroom offered a small shower stall, small sink and small counter space, and the closet was sized just so to receive our two Too Big Bags on its floor (with a security safe, extra pillows and additional blankets on its shelf). And against one wall, a desk, with a small chair. Our windows overlooked a courtyard which resembled more of an air shaft (reminding me of our first apartment in NYC at 316 E. 92nd!) but the space was well-groomed, with kelly green latticework on the facade of the interior courtyard space and manicured plants at ground level. As taken as we were with the room at Hotel Clement, daylight hours were burning. And so we tucked our belongings into their right spots in the room and headed out for our first afternoon in Paris, France. Odd to note: we were told to leave the key at the front desk upon departing the hotel. That is, each time we left our room to venture out, we were to drop the room key at the desk to pick up upon return to the hotel. Sort of makes sense stepping back from it? But we'd never been asked such a thing. Hey, when in France, right?*I'm going to wrap up this initial Paris post on this note (to return with the thick of my content sooner than later)--my ability to read French from my several high school and college years of study did help on occasion. Granted, I have stage fright and couldn't utter many French words. But I could read it to beat the band. And that made me happy!