Spring Break : Paris

Hey everyone,

So I'm finishing up my first week back in Florence. Imagined the return might provide some time to coast since we had four midterms last week, but we're back in it deep again. Villa life is in many ways a comfort, though, after some barebones meals and less-than-great accomodations over Spring Break. We came back to Florence thankful for clean beds, familiar scenery and friends reliably close-by. Funny, how most of us
now refer to it as coming home.


Left on an overnight train to Paris an hour after Psychology class on Thursday evening. Ten days to ourselves, starting with some travel with the ever-reliable Eden Schiffman on an overnight train. Not especially comfortable to sleep suspended in the air on a narrow foam pad rocking around on an iron frame, but we slept the best we could to get ready for a busy week. At Bercy station we parted, Eden going to meet his girlfriend and spend a few days in the Latin Quarter. I found my way to Friends Hostel up near Montmarte (a dank impersonal dorm-style place, not especially recommended) and then explored the neighborhood.

Montmarte is the highest point in Paris, and if you get off the main streets nearby full of bad discount clothing stores you find yourself in a quieter neighborhood of flower shops, cafes, and bakeries -- even an old colorful carousel. Amelie, we imagine, lives nearby. It's a lovely slice of the old city.


By the end of Saturday my intrepid spirit had completely outworn my legs and feet. Walked down from Montmarte to Île de la Cité and Notre Dame, then up along the river and sat on the grounds of the Louvre near the pyramid. Then walked through the Tuilieries to the Hôtel des Invalides, then to the Tour Eiffel. After taking a break to read another solid 50 pages of "The English Patient" and watching the families stroll by, I fixed my eye on the tall dark Tour Montparnasse in the distance and set off toward the horizon. Near the tower, an hour later, I found the lovely Cimetiére du Montparnasse, where Sartre and Emile Durkheim are buried. This was the first place that day where I felt I could really rest -- how relaxed can one be while guarding a backpack around the Eiffel Tower? Later, I visited the Luxembourg Gardens, the Panthéon, and crossed the river once more and walked to the Opera House. Finally, I headed back to the hostel. I am one, after all, who wants to feel like I know where I am. And this grand circuit helped me fall asleep that night.

Didn't make it back right away, however, because I bumped into fellow Villains Laura Larson and Lynsey Weston in the Metro. We went out to dinner in the Latin Quarter, and of course I had a better time with them than I would have eating out of a grocery bag back on the dark Boulevard de la Chapelle.


The rest of my Paris trip was wonderful. Many museums in Paris are free on the first Sunday of the month, so Lynsey and Laura and I visited the Musée d’Orsay and the Louvre. We also climbed the Arc du Triomphe and from the top admired the sharp symmetry in the layout of downtown Paris. Had a few treats, such as hot chocolate at Angelina's cafe near the Louvre, but overall lived economically and got to know Paris from the street merchants and the families in the parks rather than from grand hotel doormen or the staff at Louis Vuitton. Explored some of the smaller cracks in-between the icons, and as a result I feel like I'm walking away with something more special. The sight-bus equivalent wouldn't have felt real enough to me, I don't think.


I was happy to realize that a city of such cultural importance might not be too overwhelming for me, after all. Who am I, I had thought, compared to what a city like Paris represents in the minds of my friends and in my culture? I had been wondering on the overnight train if I might not be knocked over completely and submerged in something deeper, more beautiful, and more profound than myself (I later reminded myself that, ideally, this is why we travel at all). But by the end of my stay in Paris, I knew I could stand my own ground in this new place. I began to feel the city lived inside me, not just the other way around. It must mean I've found something of Paris of personal importance, even if it was quick and temporary. It'll mean something next time, too.

Off to Barcelona -- Love, Hunter.