September 2024
We made it to almost 10 years of blogging without writing a single article about the city of cities, the dream destination of many, and one of the most visited places in the world. I’m talking about Paris, of course. The irony is even greater considering that we’ve been living in France for years, visited Paris multiple times, and taken countless photos but… never actually got around to putting it all on the blog. However, as per my recent resolution, I want to post without delay about all the travels from the current year, so even if I have to start the Paris series from the end – well, then I’ll start from the end.
This autumn, we took a train from Toulouse to Paris, a city we hadn’t visited in five years. There were some boring administrative issues to settle in the capital, but the main reason for this expedition was to see our friend from London, who had come to spend some time in the City of Lights.
In five years, many things have changed. The world has changed, Paris has changed, and we have changed too. Besides, Paris was just coming around from hosting the Olympic Games (which I bitterly regret not having attended). It was with somewhat of a provincial awkwardness that we rolled out the Austerlitz train station, encumbered with bags carrying garden produce for our hosts in Pantin. All our big-city instincts were gone, as Toulouse – since Toulouse, as it was painfully obvious – isn’t really a big city, despite being the fourth-largest in France. Lost and reluctant, we had to relearn how to use public transport – what a life without a bicycle!, to protectively squeeze our bags, to jostle through the tunnels of the métro – tiring tasks we could have easily done without.
Bref, this reacquaintance aside, Paris was its usual self – stunning and imposing, with millions of visitors every year and centuries of history polished to impress, right down to its air. This city is a human masterpiece, but also a collection of late capitalism’s victories and dramatic contrasts between old money and miserable poverty. Paris is like a huge organism that lives by its own rules, and its inhabitants are merely there to serve the beast. It is cruel and it feels.
In four days – excluding social time, paperwork, and even a haircut – we managed to cover a more or less standard tourist itinerary. Not that four days in Paris is enough, because it’s not, but it was enough to revisit our favorite spots and dive into nostalgia. Trocadéro and the Eiffel Tower, the Latin Quarter, and the quays of the Seine – we greeted them like old friends. With much love, but also with the realization that the years have carved something between us, setting us apart.
I was very much looking forward to seeing Notre-Dame de Paris. In 2019, when it caught fire, I was devastated and a huge part of me, although I’m not prone to magical thinking, is convinced that it was the moment that derailed the whole world (Covid, the war in Ukraine, etc…). As I write this post, the cathedral had been open for five days, but back in September it was on the final touches stage. A large and exceptionally well-made exposition on the restoration progress moved me to the core. So much work, so many dedicated professionals and another painful truth that it sometimes takes hours or even minutes to destroy what takes long years to rebuild. I’m so happy that this page is finally over, although in Notre-Dame’s history it was a mere hiccup.
This time our photo companion for the trip was once again my favourite analog camera Nikon FM2. I’m not a big fan of B&W film and this post is the first one to be completely B&W in the history of the blog, I felt like if it’s not in Paris, I would never use these three Ilford film rolls that’d been in our fridge for years. I stand firm: everything is better in color. Still, I can’t deny that some shots turned out well, especially those captured during the fleeting moments when the sun deigned to make an appearance.
Our stay in Paris ended on a sad note. The friend for whom we both came to Paris for several days – instead of Xavier simply doing a same-day round trip – broke our arrangement and, to put it bluntly, acted in a way that makes it hard for me to consider them a friend anymore.
This isn’t typical travel blog material, but it’s not a travel guide either – just a collection of thoughts and impressions. Leaving Paris brokenhearted and questioning every relationship we’ve ever had felt strangely cinematic, fitting the city’s melancholic ambiance.
Am I romanticizing a failed friendship? It seems I am.
We both came to the conclusion that, despite our adaptability and previous experience with big-city life, it’s not something we’re seeking at the moment. I’m sure living in Paris must be wonderfully stimulating, but as I mentioned earlier, Paris doesn’t feel kind. That said, I imagine that if it were our city, with our own apartment (preferably bigger than a pigeonhole), it could have been a wonderful experience. Who can say for sure?
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