Our first day in Paris might have been our best day, but I wouldn’t realize that until my time there was complete. After arriving in Gare de l’Est we walked towards our accommodation in the 10th arrondissement while a sprinkle of rain started to fall. In the most Parisian way, our host was non-responsive to our calls and texts about trying to access the apartment early. As the rain started to come down harder, we set up camp at an Italian cafe kitty-corner from where we were staying. Unbeknownst to us at the time, this would also end up being the best food we would have during our time in Paris. Over espressos and a shared burratta and artichoke salad Nic and I waited out the rain as well as our soon-to-be-arriving companion JoJo.

Here’s where I should explain that in September 2018, Nic reached out and said that he and his friend we’re going on a last-minute trip to Costa Rica if I wanted to join. Not one to turn down both a last-minute-invite and a challenge, I accepted and we had a fan-fucking-tastic time. Me, Nic, and JoJo had a great time chilling at the beach, riding horses, ziplining, eating ceviche, and having spiked mango smoothies in a hot tub in the middle of a massive tropical thunderstorm. So the very first day Nic and I were together we spammed JoJo with peer pressure text messages to meet us in Paris at the end of May. Part of it was because we wanted to get the dream team back together, but mostly it was because she’s French-Canadian and we needed a translation ringer. To our immense delight she was game and we found a date and time to meet.

Cut to May 30 and Nic and I sitting in an Italian cafe in the heart of Paris eating the most delicious salad I’ve had in my life, waiting for JoJo. She eventually arrived and ordered a pizza, which happened to be the most delicious pizza I had eaten during my entire travels (inclusive of my time in Italy). I would like to take this moment to point out that I didn’t order anything for myself because I “wasn’t hungry” but then proceeded to vulture off of both Nic and JoJo because I’m a troll. While still waiting for our apathetic host to answer our repeated calls and messages we got kicked out of the cafe since they were closing, so we camped out in the apartment well of our building.  We finally got let into our building, while we unpacked, recharged, and discussed the best way to get to our next destination: Roland Garros.

Seeing the Australian Open the beginning of the year was a lifelong dream that had finally come true.  After experiencing that, the thought of being able to make the French Open or Wimbledon crossed my mind, but didn’t seem like a possibility given my plans at the time.  However, as those plans morphed and changed and I quit my job, it started to appear as something more tangible.  Then, when I started planning the trip with Nic, I made it a point to be in Paris by the end of May.  A few days out, I bought night session tickets and told Nic and JoJo they were coming with me whether they liked it or not.  As we sat in the car on the way to Roland Garros, a similar wave of incredulousness rose up within me, as I was about to be experiencing another lifelong dream of mine, nary 6 months after I had lived my first one.  I was beyond excited, and power-walked my way to the gates awaiting entry.

We got in and it was overwhelming, even though by this point I was an old hand at grand slam tennis venues, if I do say myself.  We queued for an outdoor court and when we were able to enter the venue, my breath caught seeing the beautiful red clay glowing even more vibrantly than I was used to seeing on TV.  We sat and watched the American Taylor Fritz get absolutely trounced by the Spaniard Roberto Bautista Agut, but at that point in time I could’ve been watching the frozen corpse of Walt Disney play Martin Lawrence as Big Momma and I would’ve been happy.  Shortly after we arrived we were joined by Burke and Muriel Blevins, my family friends from growing up who fortuitously were not only were in Paris, but at the French Open at the same time.  We sat through the end of the singles match and turned to watch the more entertaining mixed doubles match behind us.  After getting shooed off the court, we parted company and Nic, JoJo and I got coffee and snuck onto Court Suzann Lenglen to watch Simona Halep in an entertaining and tight three-set match.  The rain clouds began to gather and play was called off for the day as we exited the grounds at around 9pm, a wonderful half day of tennis in the books, and Nic and JoJo’s first grand slam experience under their belts.

We walked around the neighborhood, stopping at a couple spots for drinks and snacks as we made our way back to the 10th.  It turned into a clear night, and seeing the Eiffel Tower lit up and glittering in the dark was romantic beyond words.  Everything about my first experiences in Paris had been stereotypical and evoked so many feelings of things I’d seen in movies and on TV.  But that didn’t mean it lost any of the magic, nor mean that there was anything wrong with the stereotypes.  It lived up to them in all of the best ways, but being there in person only deepened and enriched the experience and further enriched the expectations I had going in.  There truly is nowhere like Paris, and I won’t try to explain it any further.  Hell, if it took Victor Hugo large chunks of Les Miserables to explain just the sewers of Paris, I’m just pissing into the wind.  Speaking of which, while we sat outside at a cafe enjoying our dinner of escargots and offal under an awning, there was a sudden trickle and then deluge that poured down from the awning, soaking our table, me, and JoJo.  It turns out that some Parisian that lived in the apartments above threw out their used bathwater.  The waiter passed it off with an apathetic shrug and said it happens every now and then.  It was a hilariously surreal way to end the night.

The next day started with a delightful light Parisian breakfast at a cafe on the sidewalk with tasty croissants and apathetic service.  It was delightful.  We had purchased tickets to the Louvre at 6pm that night, so we took our first pictures there then walked along the Tuileries and basked in the beautiful sunny spring day.  Our main destination was the Arc de Triomphe, but as we were heading that direction Nic demanded that we stop at the l’Orangerie to see Monet’s ‘Water Lilies’.  Little did I know what I would be getting into.

By this point in my travels, I had been to tens of museums, and enjoyed elements of all of them and appreciated the various styles and artists I had seen.  But I had never been so impacted by a work that completely pulled me in, transfixed me, and moved me to tears with the sheer beauty and scale of it.  The exhibit is designed in two oval rooms, evoking the shape of the infinity symbol.  The large panels dominate all sides of the room, and by hugging along the paintings from room to room I fell into almost a meditative state, enchanted by the beauty and peace that the masterpieces cast.  It’s still hard to describe the force of the experience, but it will be something I remember forever.  I went down and viewed the other delightful exhibits, but came back up for another viewing because I needed to see it again.  As I sat in the rooms and consumed the tranquil scenes, sometimes losing my sense of place at the illusory feeling of seeing clouds floating in water, I was again overcome with emotion.  Often my thoughts turn to Mom in moments like that, overwhelmingly profound and sublime.  But with the immediate longing and sadness that came with it, it was surprisingly subsumed by thoughts of grace and beauty, of joy and peace, and of love.

After we left the l’Orangerie we continued onto the Champs-Elysees, which was actually just one giant mall.  We stopped for a quick lunch before continuing to the end of the rue (see what I did there?) where we saw the Arc de Triomphe utterly infested with tourists.  We took our pictures from afar and got the hell out of there.  We strolled back towards the Louvre, stopping for pastries and snacks along the way.  After polishing off our macarons, croissants, and gateaus we entered the Louvre at our allotted time and descended into the belly of the glass pyramid.

We decided to see the Mona Lisa first, which to me was just meh.  It was crowded and I couldn’t get close enough to fully appreciate it.  Shortly after an overwhelming sense of apprehension set in as the sheer scale of the Louvre started to hit me.  We had just walked down to the end of the wing on one floor, and seen only hundreds of paintings out of the hundreds of thousands of pieces of art the building housed.  We eventually split up and wandered depending on what our interests were.  I proceeded to spend the next three hours power-scurrying to see Greek statues and Roman carvings, French Renaissance salons and chandeliers, and Dutch Masters and Italian Impressionists.  Highlights for me were Winged Victory, Liberty Leading the People, Venus de Milo, the Napoleon III Apartments, and the building itself.  We met up after for a little dinner at a cafe and compared notes on our favorites from the Louvre.  Tired from the long day of walking we headed home and turned in for the night, but not before arranging all of our beds in the same room, putting on some tunes and unwinding.

We started our last full day together walking towards Notre Dame and stopping at a cafe on the Seine for breakfast.  It was delicious.  After we we walked to the scorched remnants of the cathedral and got some poorly framed photos.  We then continued walking along the Seine towards a riverboat tour we were planning on taking.  It took us down and around past Notre Dame, and then back up the same way looping past the Eiffel Tower.  It was so informative and engaging that JoJo fell asleep.  Once off the boat we headed towards the Eiffel Tower to spend the day at the Champ de Mars.  We stopped for a quick bite at a delightful little cafe that looked like it had been decorated by someone’s grandma (one with taste).  We finished off with some amazing cakes, tickled pink by the incredible meal and ambience we had stumbled into.

We stopped for some wine and champagne on our way to the park, and camped on the grass of the Champ de Mars, the Eiffel Tower looming as our backdrop a few hundred meters away. It was so iconic and imposing and regal and we had the time of our lives.  We played music, gossiped, people-watched, napped, had photo shoots, drank, were merry, and enjoyed the magic as the sun began to set and golden hour started.  It was such a relaxing, vibrant, and soul-enriching way to spend our last day together.  We could’ve been off exploring more sights and hoofing it to tourist traps, but we thought we lived in the essence of the French by just sitting around, drinking, and enjoying each other’s company; couldn’t have imagined a better afternoon.  Oh wait, I can because we headed back to the Italian cafe that we stopped in our very first day and had dinner there.  We ordered the exact same thing, but added an extra pizza for good measure.  Safe to say it was just as incredible as we remembered…from two days ago.  We got to chatting with the waiters to try and find some nightlife options, and Nic even promised to rate them on Yelp once he got back.  I’m sure that still hasn’t happened.  We headed back and tried to prepare to go out, but it just wasn’t in the cards and we again descended into our raucous and crowded sleepover.

Nic and JoJo were flying out our last day together, while I still had one night left in Paris (still hadn’t decided how I was getting to London by that point).  We stopped by a local spot for our first breakfast of coffee and croissants, packed up our things, and headed over to the neighborhood where I would be staying on my last night.  We found a spot to have a second, more filling brunch while watching the daily foot traffic go by.  After that we shoved our stuff into my accommodation, bought some more wine, and went to a nearby park to kill the time and some more brain cells.  It was a beautifully hot day, and we enjoyed the last few hours of our company together.  Eventually it was time for Nic and JoJo to head out and we parted ways.  It was weird to say goodbye to Nic, seeing as I would be sleeping alone in a bed for the first time in 19 days.  Overall it was a success, seeing as we’re both still alive and not murder-suicided.  We didn’t fight, were amiable travel companions, fell into our respective travel responsibilities easily, and pushed each other to do things we wouldn’t have done alone.  He showed me how much more rewarding travel can be with a friend by your side, and the highest compliment I can give is that I’d like to go on another adventure with him again.  It undoubtedly brought us closer and I know we’ll be going somewhere again soon.  It was nice to see JoJo too.

The rest of the day I spent wandering around before heading over to the 16th arrondissement to meet up with Burke and Muriel (recurring characters!) for dinner.  We had a quick drink before heading to a nearby cafe for dinner.  No surprise at all but it was a lively and delicious dinner, as I gave them a low-down on all of my travels over pastas and pizzas.  At one point it hit me that I was having dinner with my best friend’s parents in Paris, something I couldn’t have imagined 9 months prior.  But that has been the joy of my travels, in that nothing really is outside the realm of possibility, and unexpected moments like that can be savored and delighted in.  After polishing off dessert (how could I say no?) we went our separate ways, seeing as we were all flying out the next day.  I turned in early because spending 19 days with Nic exhausted the ever-living life force out of me!  I also bought a flight to London for the next evening, which might have been the shortest amount of time I had planned out travel on my trip.  But I was on my last legs of my journey, and I fell back onto equal parts laziness and expertise.

My last day was cloudy and rainy (Paris was clearly as sad as I was that Nic had gone) and full of folly.  I caught the train to the Musee d’Orsay, only to found it was closed when I got there.  After this I walked around in the rain and bought some sympathy pastries for myself and headed to the Jardin du Luxembourg for a bit.  I couldn’t really think of anything else I wanted to see that day, nor did I have the energy to tolerate throngs of tourists.  But then I remembered that Anna recommended I should go to Sacre-Coeur.  I’m glad I did because it was stark and imposing and beautiful and had amazing views of Paris below.  And that ended up being my last sight in Paris, as I caught the train to the airport shortly after and caught my flight up to London.

If you’re still reading this, thanks for hanging with me, it’ll all be over soon and the documentation of my entire adventure will be complete.  Or I might keep delaying my last posts until my next adventure beings.  Only one way to find out 🙂

Au revoir,

Ben