Beginning the Feast

My first day in Paris was disturbed by a “stubborned” attitude.

I didn't want to leave the comfort of my bed, I did not want to him to be correct, and I did not want to accept my new home.

After hours of stalling in hopes of a sunnier time to explore, I finally gave in and stepped outside my “porte.” 

My delaying emptied my stomach and I was starving. I was a little worried about my quarter when I was sitting in the apartment. I thought nothing would be near me and everything would be a trip. 

However, once I stepped outside on the cobbly streets the immediate feeling that so many past and current writers, filmmakers, artists, and singers try to capture about the city of Paris rushed into me. 

The gloomy and cloudy weather no longer prevented my exploration, but actually aided in making the overall view of Paris look like every film or painting I’ve ever seen.

Just in my one step on Rue Guénégaud, I immediately saw what the obsession is or was. My streets were filled with solely art galleries and museums, but if I turned the corner every restaurant I could ever crave was right there for me to spend my euros on.

I had two options to explore from my doorstep:

If I went left I would be on route to Saint Germaine and I would be near the cafés, shops, and boulangeries.

If I went right I would be strolling through all along through the river and be crossing Pont Neuf.

After I picked up my pain au chocolat, I decided to stroll all along through the river.

-I wont lie this decision was mainly decided by past films I’ve seen in which the main characters are usually doing the same-

Through my stroll I was completely isolated with no distractions, I had still not gotten a French number so I had no distractions from my past location. They could not reach me, and I could not reach them.

This led me to, instead of, always looking down to actually always be looking up and taking in my surroundings. I learned that I’m neighbors to the Notre Dame & the famed bookstore “Shakespeare & company.”

After a few hours of wandering around, I decided to break and get food. One thing I realized here is that the majority of the restaurants in Paris are about sitting, something I’m not used to. I lived three years in a city where I either had food ordered to go or delivered and if I were to sit I usually had someone accompanying me on the other side of the table.

I was faced with such a silly feeling of deciding whether I should wait and retreat home to cook for myself or to just sit down on the little round café table and chair, which is usually arranged in a way so that its facing the sidewalk. I was tempted by the arrangement, because I like the idea that you’re facing Paris, rather than facing the empty chair.

****Sidenote: I am not a person who likes to usually do things alone.****

So when I was awkwardly going back and forth between my decision of sitting at the café or just to basically retreat back home, I realized I was being ridiculous and actually looking ridiculous, because I am not lying I was actually walking back and forth- I tried to hold my phone up as if I had a text to make it look less insane, but I had failed, because the servers were staring and were wondering what my decision was.

Finally one of the servers came out and just said to sit down and there was a spot in the corner for me to sit.

Luckily, my French, although, a little rusty was rushing all back to me.

Sitting at the café, all I wanted to order was a café or a café au lait, but my taste buds wouldn’t let me. I wanted to also order wine, but the weather halted me. So I ordered the next hot beverage I could think of, which is a chocolat chaud.

I recall as a child all I ever had in Paris was a chocolat chaud. Everyone around me always had the teacups to drink there café’s out of, and I was always mildly jealous because I wanted to be to hold up the drink from the little loop hole on the side of the teacup and make that sipping sound. A tea was too clear to mimic the actions of my father’s drink, but the chocolat chaud was perfect because although it may have been tad bit darker and foamier, it was all alright because it had chocolate. So that silenced my childlike attitude of wanting to grow up.

That was one of my thoughts while sitting alone in the café. As I was sitting there, I realized it’s actually a pretty normal custom to be at a café alone in Paris. Throughout my stay all I wanted was to pick up a book and read, all the while trying to enjoy my chocolat chaud. This situation and the following one are parts of what I imagined about it what it was like to live in Paris.

The final seal of what made me truly realize that I was in Paris, and that I was living in the city that every movie ending or series finale sends their character off to was my crossing of Pont Neuf.

Once I found my rhythm in Paris, and I found my breakfast place and my metro entrance. It was time for me to head to school. I learned that Paris is not really a morning person, walking through the empty streets I contrasted a morning in paris to a morning in New York.

In New York, I would jay walk diagonally to my Argo Tea and pick up my earl grey vanilla crème depending on the weather it would either be hot or cold, and then enter my subway entrance and be pushed and shoved without any personal space belonging to me.

In Paris, I wake up and pick up a pain au chocolat from Paul and cross the street and I have arrived to Pont Neuf. I walk along the bridge and I see the Eiffel Tower to my left, the Notre Dame on my right, the lovelocks next to me, and the river being below me.

While listening to my music, I couldn’t believe that this is my route to school. Everyday I would see all these monuments or items that are known or associated as “Paris.” During this walk I truly realized that I am and will be living in Paris.