We have all heard it, and those of us that grew up watching ‘The Hills’, know how very true this statement is. For multiple reasons. For me, Paris has been a place of love, friendship, heartbreak, and a safe haven. All in a matter of months. But visiting, and returning to Paris this year, has been one of the best decisions I ever made.
I’ll never forget the memories made in this stunning city. It’s easy to get lost in your own thoughts while strolling around Paris. To be transported to a life of gorgeous women, well dressed men, and chic design.
It’s tempting to follow the woman holding the baguette under her arm, to her hypothetical Parisian apartment, just to hear about her life over a glass of wine and a cigarette that she will undoubtedly smoke. Though you would never assume so based on her porcelain complexion. Or perhaps you choose to follow the man with the prominent mustache, just leaving the outdoor coffee shop, as he twists and turns through cobblestone side streets. Find out which stop he will exit the metro after following him below the chaos that is above ground. He too lights a cigarette on his small terrace overlooking the city. Maybe he has a view of the Eiffel Tower, far far in the distance. A blur on the horizon.
Paris doesn’t feel like real life.
This wasn’t the case for me in London. Or New York City. Other massive, over-populated, over-stimulated cities. I could grasp London and the big apple. I could function in a way that felt familiar to me. But not Paris. They speak with a foreign tongue and live a lifestyle of simplicity and sophistication, an all too perfect conundrum that I will never master.
The beauty of this city is overwhelming. And the sense of needing to be anywhere, extremely underwhelming. The French take their time: with their coffee, with their pace, and with their words.
New York minute.
Paris hour. Or two.
But hey, if you have nowhere particular to be, do as the French do.
This city far too extravagant for my reality. Paris is #goals. You go Glen Coco {aka Sarah}. I applaud you.
So although it may take multiple years for Paris to ever feel real to me, it has all too quickly crept into my heart in ways I may never be able to explain to anyone. Other than a therapist. Maybe I will move to this fantastic city. And learn the ways of a Parisian. Take a page out of their book and transform my reality. Maybe.
Or maybe I want to keep it for my dreams and remember the absolute magic of Paris. Either way,
Paris is always a good idea.