3.17 in paris

It’s raining today in Paris. I overpaid for a small room on Rue de la Victoire. I’m only upset because I know I could have found something better. C’est la vie. I took the train by myself which I’m most proud of. I walked 1.6 km to Hotel Mogador which took 22 minutes and wouldn’t have been a big deal if it wasn’t for the pouring rain and the two packed bags thrown over my poor right shoulder. I should’ve taken a taxi. But, when I arrived at my closet hotel I was glad I saved the money.

I walked out of the hotel and said à bientôt to the concierge and had no idea where to go. I walked towards the Seine toward the garden I had been to with the kids the day before. After walking aimlessly for a bit I settled at a place called Capri Saint-Honoré

I sat outside because they had heat lamps. It was already 2pm and I was hungry. I ordered a cappuccino obviously and a Cesar salad. I almost ordered pizza but need to stop eating like I’m on a forever vacation. It was a good salad anyway, and they served a full basket of bread with olive oil and balsamic and pepper all of which I barely touched but loved the aesthetic of. I started reading my book and eating and this older guy in his forties sat next to me. I figured we’d start talking eventually, he was sitting very close to me, and we did and it was pretty nice. He’s on a two and a half week long euro trip. Did some cool things in Iceland. I didn’t get any reading done and didn’t write at all and now it’s 4 o’clock, but if anything was to get in the way I’m glad it was a conversation. I’m glad it has something to do with people and their stories.

He ordered macaroons and we shared them and then asked if I wanted to join him to tour the opera house. If I had more time in Paris I probably would have but on a day like this – it’s snowing now – I just want to sit somewhere and write.

Now I’m at L’imperial on Rue de Rivoli right by the Tuileries Garden. I ordered a glass of Merlot because it’s the only glass of red wine I knew I could pronounce. It’s good though. I plan on being here for awhile. There’s a couple my age next to me and they are speaking English so I’m trying to eavesdrop. Maybe I will try the place Bo mentioned for dinner. I guess it depends on how much energy I have and how long the walk is.

Paige was supposed to meet me in Paris today but decided not to because the train tickets got pretty expensive. I thought for a minute I wouldn’t go into Paris on my own. The weather wasn’t looking good for walking (and it’s not) and I didn’t want to pay for my own place to stay when I could stay with the family an hour north. But, I knew I had to see the city. Even though my room sucks and I don’t really know what I’m doing it’s just nice to by myself. 


This morning I went to the Arc de Triomphe which was full of tourists and two German guys took my photo (because I took theirs). Then they wanted to take a picture with me on their phone and on my phone and that was weird. Then at the crosswalk, a Pakistani man asked to take a selfie with me and that was even weirder.  It reminded me of that time in McDonald’s in Mumbai. After the Arc de Triomphe I had breakfast at ____ and then I walked around the Eiffel Tower once more. Pretty. I went to a cafe nearby called ____ and I think it was my favorite of the whole trip. I sat outside by the heat lamps and it was so hot I kept rubbing the top of my head to make sure it wasn’t burning. I had a cappuccino and finished my book (all the light we cannot see) and I felt my brows furrow because the ending was so good and so sad and in one fell swoop the entire story came together in this wonderful way. I would read again.

2 thoughts on “3.17 in paris

  1. Paris is a great city to explore alone. I lived there for six months and while it was great to meet and socialize with the locals, my favorite moments were the solitary walks through Pere LaChaise cemetery near my apartment, puffing a joint and lost in the scene, lost in my thoughts. Amuse-toi bien et courage!

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