Do you know
that feeling when you belong somewhere, where finally everything makes sense?
Let’s start with a generalisation: Every single one of us dreams about a place where all
our worries disappear and we feel simply happy. Like many artists, writers,
musicians I found this “satisfaction” in Paris. So rather than giving a
touristic description about this spectacular city, I have decided to talk about
my impressions and experiences. Warning! My view is, nonetheless, as idealised
as the main character’s perception in Midnight
in Paris by Woody Allen, but equally understandable and loveable...
I have heard
so many clichés about Paris, but I have never cared for them.
I wanted to learn French intensely and experience the culture, and of
course I chose to do that in the capital. Coming here alone for two weeks, however, was not at
all easy at the beginning; I struggled with the language, I got lost all the
time, I was tired and lonely. But then it hit me, the “it” being the magic! I
was forced to use the language and it helped me to overcome my fear of talking
with a hideous accent; even when I got lost I discovered a beautiful church or
a hidden garden, and the loneliness soon disappeared too. Tiredness, though,
stayed as my companion through the whole trip, sleeping was just something I
had to sacrifice in order to get the most of my time being there. But to
elaborate more on the loneliness, I am guessing that is no news for anyone that
Paris is the most pinky-cheesy romantic city in the world you can possible
imagine. Even sitting down on a regular bench encourages you to write sonnets. Since
I have got back many people actually asked me if I have fallen in love, because
I seem different. And in fact I did, I fell in love with Paris itself. Yes, no
doubt this sounds as cheesy as a proposal on the Eiffel Tower (which I have
seen), but it sums up my point. Surprisingly this is a place where it is
allowed to be extremely sentimental and desperately romantic at the same time.
So rather
than to sketch the magnificence of La Sainte-Chapelle, Le Louvre or the
scary height of La Tour Eiffel, and
besides expounding on the taste of les macarons,
I feel compelled to talk about my impressions, because Paris is not about knowing it, but about
feeling it. When you see it in the movies, on pictures you certainly think –
“Wow this city is beautiful!” – except when you have no taste for architecture
or art whatsoever. However, being there, walking along the Seine in the rain,
hearing crazy musicians in the metro, smelling freshly made croissants on your
way to school, staring for hours at masterpieces by artists such as Monet,
Renoir, Da Vinci, Van Gogh, Picasso, that is when you get charmed for sure. The rush of happiness you get
when you sit down at the La Fontaine des
Medicis in Le Jardin du Luxembourg
and nothing in the world can bother or disturb you. When you are walking at
Montmartre in the sunshine, charming accordion players follow you and suddenly
you find yourself in a happy-summer-art world on the most beautiful hill in
Paris.
It is a metropolis
enormous and charming enough to have some
allure to anybody. For me, Paris is like a freshly made
croissant: the first bite is crunchy, but once you get to taste it properly it
is divinely smooth and delicious. After you ate it, being covered in the crumbs,
it is impossible to forget you enjoyed it. We all heard about it, it looks
elegant, it tastes good, but it is essential to try it yourself. Paris has it
all: the taste, the look, the smell, the sound, and finally, the feeling.
- - Lucia Szemetová
