Clearly some people don’t love Paris as much as me.
The great thing about coming back to Paris on multiple trips is that you soon no longer feel compelled to do all of that annoying sightseeing stuff. You finally feel as though you have a handle on the surroundings, and you can actually sit back and enjoy the city for what it really offers. Also, if you’re like me, French people might stop you to ask for directions as you are doing this.
Take the Eiffel Tower for example. I still love checking this big Iron Beast out- but really I only love doing it from the ground level. The best way to accomplish this, as I learned this week, is by getting together with a bunch of good food and friends to sit on the Champ de Mars (French for ‘big ass lawn’). After you sit down, there’s nothing left to do but sit for hours and watch the day finish up.
Here’s a snapshot of our eats:
Chèvre, neufchâtel, camembert, saucisson….I am ready to die happy.
If it’s a picnic in Paris, you can’t have dinner without some good wine. In an Ikea cup that is steadied by your shoe. It’s the only way to class things up.
My only contention with this arrangement is that the sun is practically nocturnal at this time of year. You look at your watch once it finally gets dark and you suddenly realize that 10pm looks like this. The next morning the sun makes such a rapid reappearance that you reflexively roll out of bed and wonder why you feel so
hungover tired.
That’s what I did at least.
I got up the next morning and soon enough found myself at the exact same space we were a few hours earlier. The drinking population was replaced by the running population, and soon enough I was out there trotting along with them. I really needed to get in a couple of miles after eating so much fantastic food- so I took off down the Seine to do some more coincidental yet deliberate tourism.
One-fifth the size of the real thing. This replica was inaugurated three years after the original one went up in New York. This Statue of Liberty was a gift from Parisian expats living in the U.S. to commemorate the centennial of the French Revolution. I do so love running with a camera.
Behold the Statue of Liberty on the Pont de Grenelle. Apart from her size, the only difference between this one and the statue in New York is that her tablet bears two dates: those of the American and French independence days.
She faces the Atlantic and her bigger sister. There is another even smaller statue in the Luxembourg Gardens (here in Paris).
And my run ends here, back at the champ. The four miles were a little slow (it would appear that wine, cheese and baguette are not “power food” in this sense), but it was a great way to bookend my time at the Eiffel Tower. Even better that this entire experience didn’t require
me to stand in line get to the top of that thing.
It’s now 10:20 at night and once again it’s still light outside; I’ve got the windows open so I can take in the sounds of the evening. Sure you can hear the cars driving down the street, but you know what else I hear? Someone playing a violin. I know that it’s not appropriate to compare the two cities, but the night before I left for Paris, the sound that commenced at this hour was jack hammering. No kidding. The faithful Dakarois had chosen this hour of potential serenity to lull Point E to sleep with some construction work.
I feel extremely fortunate to have been back in Paris, but I will say that there are parts of me that do miss Dakar. Each city really has its own brand of experience to offer up, and it’s just a matter of how you choose to be a part of the adventure.
