That’s right ladies and gents, I made it to Paris. That title phrase above was exclaimed about 25 times over my long weekend in France. Seeing it seemed to be just as exciting from every angle, distance, and state of mind. One of our metro rides included discussing the merits of the Eiffel Tower– i.e. Yes, it is huge and looks really cool, but is it actually a pretty thing? But when there’s the hourly light show at night? Fuhggedaboutit.– which won us a particularly ostensible eye-roll from a blonde Parisian woman trying to enjoy her sophisticated magazine. We made some great headway in our diplomatic relations. We were actually pleasantly surprised with the warm reception we had with most of the Parisian people we encountered at restaurants, museums, etc., considering anyone who could get me to listen would say “Oh, have fun in France, they’ll hate you,” save our metro lady-friend.

This trip was about sites, shops, sweets, [French onion] soup, the Seine, and sisters for me. I traveled with one of my oldest friends, met up with four sorority sisters (one who has been studying in Tours, France since September!), and had four days to soak in this enormous city. When we landed at 11:30 p.m. and took our first expensive taxi Paris-bound we were greeted by the midnight light show and it immediately felt real. We were actually in Paris. Our hotel happened to have a great view of the tower, and was conveniently located outside the Pasteur metro stop in Montparnasse.

Our first day we headed to the Palace of Versailles, the enormously vain project by Louis XIV, and most notably, where Marie Antoinette famously uttered “Let them eat cake!” before she of course had to escape the wrath of the rebels (the door through which she escaped was included in our audio tour!) The exterior was currently being freshly gilded– it was so intriguing to see the old up against the new– and the place was filled to the brim of fine silks, tapestries, statues, and crystal chandeliers. Not a luxury was neglected, not a seat uncushioned, not an inch of wall or furniture unadorned. My friends in Rome might actually murder me for saying this, but since I didn’t have time to set foot in the Sistine Chapel it was at least nice to see the gorgeous painted ceiling of the chapel in Versailles. Unfortunately we had still crept up on tourist season, thus missing the famous gardens in bloom and fountains spouting; it was still beautiful and an awe-striking site. 

We then met up with my friends that I traveled with to Greece at the Eiffel Tower. What kind of life do I lead where I was able to set up a date to meet my friends at the Eiffel Tower? We then headed to Les Refuge des Fondus to enjoy bread, potatoes, gooey cheese, and cook our meat in vats of boiling oil, and of course, drink wine out of legitimate baby bottles. This place was so popular yet humbly-sized that those sitting along the wall had to climb over the tables to sit. Every restaurant has their shtick. We then hightailed it back to catch the last Eiffel light show of the night, when the metro shut down as we were walking along the moving sidewalk. What’re the chances?

The next day we met up with two more of my sorority sisters, the French student and the other studying in Norway, for a walking tour of the city. We happened to be blessed that day to bask in the sunlight and mild 74 degree heat as we caught glimpses of the Notre Dame, the Latin Quarter, the Pont Neuf, the Lock Bridge (or as our ex-pat grad student tour guide mentioned for the squealy-girl tourists, “The Sex and the City Bridge”), the Seine, the Grand and Petit Palais, and the Louvre’s pyramids, you know, just to name a few. After munching on a meat and cheese plate with the girls at a café with the tour guide’s discount, we finally made it in line to get to the top of the Eiffel Tower. 

The lift rides and view of the city has been the most overwhelming experience to date, among all my other climbs to the tops of cities and their various funicular, cable car, and look out points. I can safely say I did not actually believe what I was seeing. Later on we went to the Saint Germain de Pres area for some French Onion soup at Café de Flore before our river boat cruise along the Seine, to see the rest of the city lit up at night. But it was the Parisians themselves who truly lit up the night, as hundreds of them were drinking along the Seine and boisterously yelling and mocking those on the tours. We waved back at them like pageant queens and royalty, now knowing why Paris constantly smells like a public restroom. 

Still with me? Carly and I decided to go to Musee d’Orsay and the Louvre on free museum day, of all days. Though we would have gotten in free any other day with our European student visas, we had to compete with the rest of the tourists to get in, appreciate some impressionist art, hit up the Mona Lisa, Winged Victory and Venus de Milo leaving enough time to shop and eat some French pastries. 

The line through Musee d’Orsay moved deceivingly quickly, and I saw my Degas, Monet, Manet, Renoir, Van Gogh, and Durer. Having done a project in high school called “Art History in a Bottle,” where I painted Degas’ famous ballerinas on the outside of a wine bottle, it was an exciting moment for me. I also saw pieces that my sister has recreated and are hanging in our house, and may I say just as good as the originals. We had various people tell us about a separate entrance to the Louvre, which is not quite hidden and is actually marked as an entrance, but almost never has lines since everyone gets sucked in by the main pyramid entrances. Loopholes on free museum day were quite necessary. For the sake of time-pressed college kids I won’t reveal this entrance to the cyber-masses, but if you want to know send a message!

We had quiche lorraine, thick hot chocolate and exquisite macaron deserts at Angelina’s Café on Rue de Rivoli before walking down the Champs-Elysee towards the Arc de Triumphe. Thank god we had the long walk to work off the food. I haven’t even mentioned the amounts of baguettes and nutella-banana crepes we had on this trip. We ended the night with a very nice dinner at Café Marly outside the Louvre and a photo-op in front of the Moulin Rouge. Situated in Paris’ red light district, it wasn’t quite as romantic as the place made famous by Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor’s Elephant Love Medley, but it was cool none-the-less.

On Monday before our flights back to Spain, we headed to the Parisian Jewish Quarter in Les Marais off the Saint Paul metro stop. It was so quaint and perfect, pretty much a little Israel. It was so fascinating to see the French and Hebrew languages blending on store fronts, the kosher bakeries, the falafel stands, and the jewelry boutiques straight out of Tzvat. The falafel place recommended to Carly by a friend also boasts Lenny Kravitz as a satisfied customer, and even hires pushy promoters to lure you in off the streets, in case you were yearning for the aggressive sales-techniques of the holy land. I must say, the French Jews frequenting the place were quite attractive and not as metrosexual as the rest of the city. We shopped, ate Challah, and ended our French rendezvouz with a glass of champagne. Paris, je t’aime. Le’sigh– I’m spent.