Journal de France - Day 2

The following is not a true story. However I did in fact go to France, and therefore this is inspired by my adventure. 

If you have not read "day one" click here.

March 19th

"Ding, Ding. We are now beginning our final decent into Charles de Gaulle air port."

Only the persistent dinging wakes me from my slumber.

The first thing I notice is the smell of airplane food. Slowly I open my eyes.

Expectantly, I look out the window, and am disappointed to see heavy cloud cover all around.

Some childish part of me believed I'd be able to see the Eiffel Tower already. 

I thought of my room back home. Various things with the Eiffel Tower could be seen in all corners of my room. It's such a symbol. More then anyone could have imagined it would become when it was made over 200 years ago. It's such a perfect mixture of the modern and the elegant, and when it lights up at night...

"Excuse me, are you waiting for something?" I looked to my left and noticed that the plane had already landed, and the person next to me wanted to get out.

"No," I reply, "I'm getting out now."

 I stand, and grab my carry on from the rack above.

I feel dazed as I walk off the plane and vaguely follow signs until I reach the baggage claim. 

Then it hits me. 

I. Am. In. France. 

A huge smile spreads across my face as I pull my baggage outside and get a taxi.

I have to say I was disappointed with the scenery outside of the airport, but I knew it would get better. 

It wasn't long until I saw Paris's lone skyscraper. So out of place like a knife cutting the sky amongst a row of spoons, blending perfectly together.

My hotel is in the 7th arrondissement, the same area that the Eiffel tower is in. 

As we approach the 7th arrondissement I see beautiful building all around me.

And at the end of the street, tucked away in an alcove of fog, stands the Eiffel Tower. 

The real, live, three dimensional object. 

As I'm still trying to swallow this fact, we pull into the hotel Tryp de Saxe.*

Inside I exchange pleasantries with the lady at the front desk, and then receive a key for room 12+.

I've always found it odd that people took such lengths to avoid superstitions like the number 13... 

I slide the key in the door, and bing, the light turns green. I pull the handle, and open the door.

I droop my bags, and head straight for the window.

It's not a view of the Eiffel tower, but it's a view of Paris all the same.

I look at the itinerary Kylie gave me:

'March 19th-enjoy your first day in Paris!'

Well that should be easy enough to do, I think. 

Tired of sitting in the airplane for so long, I decide to go for a walk. 

 After a quick shower and change of clothes, and leave room 12+ and take a deep breath of french air.

Somehow it tastes so much better than Dollywood air...

I walk down a street, and am surprised to see a sort of farmers market happening.

I walk though it and see various things being sold. Cheese, bread, meat, fresh produce...

The french language surrounds me, it's a romance language indeed, and I'm in love with it!

After a few minutes I reach my first destination: The Eiffel Tower.

It draws me in like flies to a light. 

I ask a nice tourist if they'll take my picture, gesturing to my camera, unsure of what language they speak.

They oblige, and the documentation process begins.

(This is actually a real picture of me,  with a pixalated face slapped onto it, lol)

The rest of the day is a blur. One monument after the next.

Everything I've seen in pictures in real life.

Somewhere in between seeing Les Invalides and Notre Dame I realize something. 

People actually live here.

It's such a odd thought to me that I take a pause. 

This is such a different life style than what I have known my whole life. 

I'm experiencing a culture shock.

I sit down on a bench over looking the Seine river, and across the way I see two small children playing.

I can't help but think of my childhood. The big city, with skyscrapers every where.

Sometimes it seemed like they cut up the sky so much, it wasn't there at all.

Just a metallic, and materialistic world.

Shades of pink are now being reflected onto the Seine from the setting sun. 

I'd been so preoccupied, and excited about being in Paris that I hadn't even realized how long it had been since I'd eaten. Now that I noticed this,  I was famished. 

I retrace my steps until I arrive at  a creperie I saw a little while ago. 

I order a crepe with jambon et fromage, and, for the first time since arriving, I feel lonely. 

Diner has always been such a family oriented meal for me, a time to share how your day was...

"Pardon, est-ce que vous vous appellez Lia?" A guy had approached me while I was deep in thought.

"Eh, Oui, parlez-vous anglais?" I reply.

"Yes, I just had to ask! I recognized you from Recherche Magazine", He responds with a french accent.

"Oh, really? I didn't know people in france read that."

"Well not many, but when you're involved in the industry as much as I am, you read everything."

"Oh, you're in the industry? As what?"

"I'm a fashion photographer. So I assume you'll be at the meeting tomorrow?"

"uhh", I look at my itinerary, "Yea, I guess I will be!"

"Well, I'll see you then. My name is Aguste, by the way."

"Okay, à demain"

I look at my itinerary again: 8am - Meeting
No other information is given, but the location.
I guess I'll just have to dive in head first, and hope it all works out.

*Tryp de Sax is the actual hotel I stayed at in Paris

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