If you haven’t guessed by now ‘She’ is ‘Sal’ and ‘Sal’ is me. I thought for the final Part of this London vs Paris blog, I’ll speak in first person for a change to allow for a more personal touch, so here I go…
26th
October 2013 – What now?
As soon as I walk out of the station
I’m faced with ‘Bonjour a la blah blah blah!' I.E, ‘Can I take all of your money
and convince you to accompany me to some gloomy dungeon where I will attempt to
turn you in to a sex slave shortly after offering you the world for your
belongings?’ I said ‘Bonjour’ and then quickly walked in the opposite direction
as he continued to mutter some more ‘a la blah blah’s’ before finally leaving
me alone. Thank GOD. After this I popped my ear phones in but re-framed from actually listening to any music, to appear as an unbothered
local.
The feeling as I stepped into this foreign air is something that will stay with me forever –
exhilaration filled my whole being and all I wanted to do was scream from the
top of my lungs ‘I made it, I’m here, Hallelujah’! …What now? After my brief
encounter with ‘Mr a la blah blah’, I walked to my hostel which I found quite
easily. I had a short but yet quite lovely conversation with the man at the
front desk, who told me all I needed to know about the hostel and gave me the first of many maps that I would eventually lose over my stay. I
dumped my bag in the left luggage locker (as I wasn’t able to check in until
4pm) and went off in search of inspiration. My hostel was lovely as were the
people and it was literally 2 minutes walk from The Sacre Coeur, which is where
I found myself next.
As I walked up the stairs I’m
faced with more ‘Mr a la blah blahs’ - but this time they were much more
aggressive, they touched my arm quite forcefully as they tried to get my
attention. They seemed to be selling something that looked very familiar to
string. Standard normal string like, well just, string. I avoided them after
several rounds of ‘No Merci’ was thrown back and fourth, and finally took in
the incredible view of Paris. I also visited Monte Marche and saw all of the
artists sitting down with their mugs of tea ready for the next onslaught of
tourists to arrive. Eventually after nervously reading my phrase book for around 10 minutes, I plucked
up the courage to enter a small bistro and order some food in French.
I walked in, asked for a table,
sat down, ask for the toilet, came back feeling very pleased with myself for
doing all of the above in French, and then opened the menu to find that I
couldn’t actually read anything on it. CRAP! I ordered a Ham baguette (in
French) to which the waiter quickly removed the dinning cutlery and table cloth
leaving me with just a small wooden table. He seemed slightly annoyed but was
friendly enough. The food was delicious as was the coffee which was great as it
cost more than my sandwich - a standard occurrence over the trip. After trying to hide my phrase book for the better half of my visit, a kind French man tapped me on the
shoulder at the last minute whilst I was paying my bill. ‘Is this yours?’ he
said in perfect English as he handed me my phrase book that had fallen onto the
floor. AWKWARD! I then left him and the friendly waiting staff to explore the
area.
I didn’t know where I was going
and didn’t follow the map at all, I quite literally got lost in Paris and it
was fantastic. After crossing many roads, which is quite the experience as the
green man doesn’t necessarily mean that traffic will stop, I was suddenly faced
with something incredible – my first traditional view of Paris. At precisely
1.07pm, a lady rode by on her bicycle with a baguette in the front basket wearing
a red Beret! JOY OF ALL JOYS! I really didn’t think this would happen so soon
into my trip, but it was everything I'd expected… and more, quite the sight.
I eventually found the river
seine and as I felt my feet beginning to give way, I saw the second most
incredible sight (after the lady on the bicycle). My first view of the Eiffel
tower. At once I was filled with emotions of happiness and joy as I felt my
eyes welling up with those tears of absolute elation, that I'd been saving up. What a beautiful building that
is, and apparently it was only built to survive 10 years. Incredible. I walked
along the river towards the tower and sat underneath it after passing a row of
heavily armed guards. I heard my first English voice of the day and asked them
where the metro station was, not to actually know but just to make
conversation.
I then at precisely 3.12pm realised that London Underground
is my friend. I joke, but seriously the Metro in Paris was quite difficult to
understand at first, although the people were a treat. You can imagine the
scene as I ran up to the train doors and said to one of the passengers ‘Pardon,
Anvers?’ to which she replied ‘We’, which I am aware is not how you spell it.
Correction: ‘Oui’. This also reminded me of my appalling language skills
earlier when a passer-by asked me something in French and I replied with ‘Je voudrais anglais’! Which translates ‘I WOULD LIKE
ENGLISH’! How rude of me… I think I meant to say ‘Parla vouz Anglais’ there. As I
took her picture by some random tree I decided that upon my return I must learn
to speak a language. It was so inspiring to hear a Moroccan lady speak both French
and English perfectly well along with her own language of Arabic, and as you
can imagine we ended up having quite the conversation.
I arrived back at my hostel at around
3.30pm. My room was ready so I unpacked, managing to obtain the bottom bunk, and
sat out on the terrace for a while. I read up on Paris, drank some water, wrote
for 2 hours and then decided to go back up to The Sacre Couer and find
somewhere to eat. Perhaps another bistro I pondered as I put my shoes back on
and headed for the door.
Throughout my first day in Paris I had
visited some amazing places, met some incredibly inspiring people, and that
evening heard the most fascinating stories I have ever heard before. On this
day and in that moment I realised that for me, Paris had won!
Answers on a postcard: (refer to ‘Everyday
Ends in Y’) …I was going to work. Bill Pullman celebrates Independence Day on
the same day and at the same time as everybody else. AND as previously
suggested ‘Post-it’ notes were not actually invented by Michele from ‘Romy and
Michele’s High School Reunion’ but in fact by some fellow called Arther
Fry…google it!
Next time on Your Head Not Mine …an apology
for the length of this three part blog FEATURING Comedy, Spoons, Tupperware and
…comedy spoons in Tupperware. Tune in
Soon to find out…BOOM!
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