This is my third day in Paris and the fact that I’m actually here, miles away from home, hasn’t hit me yet.
My mind starts playing tricks on me, telling me that these days have been only a sweet hallucination, and the fact that everyone around me speaks French, just a funny coincidence.
I suddenly feel a desperate need to see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, the river Seine with all its beautiful bridges… My eyes crave for an undeniable prove of my presence in this city.
I get up from the red couch that has been my bed for the past couple of nights (and so many more to come) and start planning my day. Coming from a small town, I can’t help feeling nervous and a bit scared about going out all by myself into this misterious concrete jungle that is Paris.
I spend several hours just getting ready for it, more psychologically than anything else, trying to postpone my departure until it’s so obvious that I’m so well prepared and that my backpack carries anything I could possibly need in case of a nuclear bomb attack that I have no other choice but to accept I’m finally ready to leave.
I find the journey by metro extremely interesting. Everyone in the train seems to be inmersed in their own world, totally withdrawn from reality. I observe parisians as they come and go. I love to watch them read or chat, and find great delight in the diversity of their oufits and hair styles, features and gestures. I daydream about what their lives must be like, who they might be meeting and I wonder whether they love and are loved and are genuinely happy. I wish I had the courage to ask.
When I arrive at my destination and reach street level again, it takes me a few seconds to realise where I am… until I turn around and though the sun is hitting hard, my eyes catch a glimpse of it in the distance. And this time is not a postcard, it’s not a photo someone shared. It’s just me, and Paris, and the Eiffel Tower ❤
Paris (Place de la Concorde), 13 April 2015, 18:49
by Marta Moslw
For the first few minutes it all still feels like part of a dream.
I stand still in contemplation. Place de la Concorde is empty, which seems incredible, and I take a few photos that seem to come from another era. A time when one could easily run into young Hemingway on the streets or have a copious meal for less than a few francs in one of the hundreds of dodgy cafés around the city.
For a while I fantasize about what it must have been like to live in Paris at that time in history and how I’d give anything to be able to experience it just for a day… But I’m here now and this is my time and it all feels pretty magical too.
I cross the gates of Les Tuileries Gardens and it feels like traveling from black and white Paris in the 20s, directly into a full color 21st-century summer day, in just a thousandth of a second.
Paris (Les Tuileries), 13 April 2015, 18:55
by Marta Moslw
People are strolling about, sitting by the fountains and ponds, biking across the pathways, having ice-cream…
Kids are shouting and cheerfully playing around, birds are chirping, people of all ages chatting, smiling, laughing incontrollably.
Flowers are blooming and bursting into an explosion of bright colours that create this beautiful spring palette.
The soft breeze and the sun beams kindly caress my skin.
I close my eyes and breathe it all in.
You’re in Paris, baby.
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