The City of Lights and Love

Aside from a day trip to Amsterdam two years ago, my trip to Paris was my first time in another European country outside of Germany. Paris, to say the least, is gorgeous! Haussmann's architectural style brings beauty and decor to the streets and facades of Paris, and the aesthetic beauty is incomparable to that of Berlin. On the first day, IES went on a bus tour to pass by all the famous sites: Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, Royal Palais, Notre Dame Cathedral, Palace de la Concorde, Paris Opera, and so many more! By mid-afternoon, the sun had gone down and the wind picked up (and if you know me at all then you know that I desperately needed to use the restroom), so a few of us got off the bus and walked to a small cafe. We tried to find a reasonably priced place, but failed to do so...big surprise! So we sat down at one place, and I payed 11,50 Euros for a fabulous tiramisu and espresso. At least the bathroom was free. Speaking of free, while we were waiting to place our orders, a man in his mid-thirties approached our table and addressed us with a handsome French accent: "Hello ladies. I must leave, but I still have half a bottle of wine. Would you like the rest of it?" We hesitantly agreed, and he went and told the manager the situation. The waiter brought our table glasses and served us the rest of the wine--it was fantastic (glad I didn't have to pay for it...I bet my father is too!) So that was our first interaction with the "more aggressive/forward men" of Paris that our program had warned us about; I'm not going to lie...if this is "aggressive" then I like it. (I sound like my mother and grandmother...oh God!) After the cafe, my friend and I walked to the Louvre where we spent about 2.5 hours looking around. I think you would have to go about 25 times in order to see everything! I probably saw only a 1/5 of the entire collection! The museum was actually a bit overwhelming at times--so little time and so much to see. But all of the works were fantastic. I got to see the originals of so many pieces that I tirelessly studied in my art history courses over the years (David, Watteau, Rigaud, Cimbue, Leonardo da Vinci, Poussin, Géricault, Delacroix, and the list could go on). In fact, I walked into one room and grabbed Ana by the arm while tears welled up in my eyes. Hanging in front of my eyes was one of my favorite paintings ("Death of Marat" by Jaques Louis David), which I had forgotten was housed in the Louvre. The painting is pretty sepulchral, but for some reason I have always loved it. My favorite part about seeing all the pieces was realizing their actual size--you never know how small or large something is when it is printed in a textbook.

That night Morgan, Ana, and I went to a small bar/lounge that is famous for their sangria. Despite the fact that it was Parisian sangria (sort of oxymoronic), it was quite delicious. The bar was very cramped, and we all huddled in a corner table together. All three of us commented on the difference between Frenchmen and Germans--the Frenchmen usually look more rugged (not shaven), while most Germans look very manicured and clean-cut. We were happy for the aesthetic change in "scenery." In fact, Morgan and I quickly noticed a very attractive Frenchman sitting at a nearby table, and we made it our goal to talk to him before the night was over. Before we could make a move, two other Frenchmen (the unfortunately manicured kind) sparked up conversation with us and offered us drinks. (Don't worry, we watched the bartender open the bottle of wine). While their talk of working for Louis Vuitton and J.P. Morgan was fascinating...NOT...we entertained them with our stories of the "American Life." Finally, we were able to slip away from the conversation, and we conveniently moved closer to the handsome Frenchman and his two friends. A conversation somehow started between our two groups and we ended up spending the rest of the night sitting and talking with our new French friends (Clément, Charles, and Geoffrey). It turns out that Clément is a musician and the three friends had just returned from Berlin where Clément had performed at some clubs/bars. We had such a nice time with our new French friends that Morgan and I met up with them again the next night for dinner and drinks.