On this day seven years ago I was about to go on a wonderful adventure...
... after a significant amount of daydreaming and itinerary-making, I was packing my suitcase and heading off to Paris for two months!
Rewind back about six months, and I was a disillusioned university student. I wasn't quite sure where I was going career-wise, but Paris had been consuming my thoughts day in, day out. The more books I read about people upping sticks to live abroad, the more I realised that there was nothing stopping me from making a trip of my own; perhaps not a complete relocation but definitely something longer than a mini break.
So I began the planning process which involved a lot of questions: was two months too long? Was it too short? Should I stay in central Paris (obviously a lot more expensive) or on the outskirts (cheaper but so much further away from the excitement). And if I stayed in central Paris, which arrondissement would be the best, and safest? After a lot of umming and ahing, saving up and street-stalking on Google Maps, I plumped for two months in a 13 square metre chambre de bonne on the rue de la Verrerie (glass-maker street) .
I arrived on 20th September 2007, full of excitement and with a day-by-day itinerary of how the next two months of my life would play out. The apartment (fifth floor, no lift) was very basic and everything had multiple purposes: my bed was a sofa by day, my dining table was a place to eat, write and iron my clothes. On my little hot plate (typical of Parisian apartments) I would cook pot de veau, lamb chops and my twist on scrambled eggs (the result of an omelette gone wrong), and every afternoon I'd have a glass of wine to celebrate my day.
There were lots of noises in the apartment which eventually came to become quite comforting to me: the bells of Saint Merri chiming, a trainee pianist in a nearby apartment, the coo of pigeons on my roof, even the sound of sirens which is so different to the British nee-naw. My street was lovely too - there was a tabac, a department store, Azzedine Alaïa's mysterious atelier, a vintage shop - and in an excellent central location.
Many connect the Left Bank with the iconic idea of Paris - the beatniks and bourgeoisie, art galleries and les grands cafés - but I'm a Right-bank girl at heart. I ended up visiting each and every arrondissement but I would quite happily have been imprisoned within the Marais district, with its charming streets, Moyen Âge buildings and pretty gardens.
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In the earlier
weeks of my stay it was Paris Fashion Week and I was extremely fortunate to go to
some of the shows, including Vivienne Westwood and Elie Saab. I also visited press shows, and one of my favourites was held in the beautiful Hôtel Bristol, with a string
quartet playing La Vie en Rose in the background. Later on, I had un petit boulot at Chic Shopping Paris, and for each shift I would walk from my flat to the 11th arrondissement, passing the little shops and bakeries on the rue Roi de Sicile, the beautiful aubergine doors of Saint Paul and the immaculate Place des Vosges.
I watched all
of the Parisian women: what they were wearing, how their hair was cut, how they cut their
nails, did their make-up. I wanted to throw away all of the clothes I had put
together in my capsule Parisian wardrobe and start again. Everyone was wearing black: skinny black
jeans, black ballet pumps, black leather jackets and faded grey marl t-shirts
that might have belonged to their boyfriends.
Mostly my days were spent with such joy: I lived and breathed the city. Every day was a new exploration in patisserie - éclairs, religieuses, crêpes, macarons, Isaphan, operas - not to mention trying to discover the best hot chocolate in Paris (I found it, it's at Café de Flore).
This week, Travel Notes will be dedicated to all things Paris... check back soon for more posts on la Ville lumière!