Paris! I could not believe it. My WHOLE LIFE I had dreamt of going and I was actually here! We arrived early in the morning, having flown all night. On the way over the sweet flight attendant upon discovering it was our honeymoon had given us demi bottles of French wine and champagne. That’s the first thing I learned to appreciate. In the states it’s by the glass or an entire bottle. But like Goldilocks testing porridge, I discovered half a bottle is just right. Smuggling my bottles as souvenirs, I was thrilled simply being in the airport. The familiar sounds of French were being spoken all around me and a woman was broadcasting in dulcet tones over the over the loud speaker. I recognized the exit signs; I knew what everything meant. I felt like I was home. In our taxi my husband of approximately twelve hours had me putting my French to use and the Morrocan cabby and I chatted back and forth with the happiness of two long lost friends. Burk is very geographically oriented — far more than most — and my rusty abilities were struggling to keep up with his requests to our driver. We were staying in a little boutique hotel on the Left Bank, chosen primarily for their hearty American full, hot breakfasts served each morning. My 178 pound husband still has the metabolism of a teenage boy — and a cold Continental breakfast is an effrontery to his very being. We wound our way up a centuries old marble staircase and I remember taking in the delicate French furnishings of our exquisite suite. Asking where we should go first, Burk pronounced, “the Eiffel Tower!” with all the certainty of a captain leading his troops into battle. And so we were on our way. I am never too cool to be a tourist — even in my own city. It was high season in mid-June and we still only had a 20 minute wait to reach the top. It took a series of three elevators and I was amazed at the cacophony of languages swirling all around us. The view from above helped us orient ourselves with the city; something Burk taught me. And none of it disappointed. Next we took a boat ride along the Seine and passed under some of her famous bridges. The Pont Neuf is the oldest in Paris and serves as a connection between the Rive Gauche (the Left Bank) and the Rive Droite (the Right Bank.) Its construction dates all the way back to 1578 during the time of Henry III. The Pont Royal is dedicated to King Louis XIV, estimated to have been built around 1869. It is located near both the Louvre and the Tuileries. Pont Alexandre III is an ornate bridge instantly recognizable for its beautiful lampposts, cherubs, and nymphs. Just a short walk from the Eiffel Tower and Les Invalides, it is regarded by many as the most beautiful bridge in Paris. There is also the Pont au Double, a much smaller bridge connecting the Left Bank with the Ile de la Cité; the very heart of Paris. Our tour circled Notre Dame on one end and the petite Statue of Liberty on the other. Just as it was coming to a close, around 10:30 p.m. it finally turned dark. And the City of Light became even more magical. The Eiffel Tower shimmered and twinkled with thousands of rapidly changing colored lights, causing everyone to stop and gaze up in awe. Afterward we had the best chocolate ice cream cone I have ever had and rode this pop up carousel pictured above near La Tour Eiffel. American author Amy Thomas wrote:
“I guess it goes to show that you just never know where life will take you. You search for answers. You wonder what it all means. You stumble, and you soar. And, if you’re lucky, you make it to Paris for a while.”
Looking into my handsome husband’s eyes and watching Paris swirl by on that warm summer night I knew I was in love pour toujours … mes deux amours.
