Photography

As I sit here on Sunday afternoon on the floor of my living room with my laptop on the coffee table, browsing though photographs from my first trip to Paris, it's exciting to realize that in just a few weeks I will be back in the City of Lights.  With the anticipation of this next adventure escalating, (I leave in exactly one week!) it seems fitting that I am just now posting my final images from my first visit, it seems as though I have never left Paris! I am beginning to appreciate my procrastinating nature by taking months to upload photos; it creates a bit of anticipation and mystery...two things that the "digital age" I believe have stripped from humanity.  However, that's a topic unto its own and shall be left alone for now!

Turning 30 in Paris.  Paris in September.  An unforgettable week in the City of Lights.  What has Paris taught me? I have a new found, albeit bitter sweet, appreciation for architecture that's for sure.  It makes me frustrated that today we can't seem to build anything that is beautiful to look at.  Yes, beauty is subjective, but who in their right mind can look at 17th or 18th century architecture and not be impressed? Also the design of the city is astounding,  what stood out to me was at the end of almost every narrow winding street was something beautiful, a park or a stunning building.  Every turn you made was like a painting or a photograph, with thought put into every little detail.  As the saying goes, "It is the journey, not the destination that matters".  Why not be surrounded by beauty as you walk to the grocery store or park? or surrounded by inspiration as you make your way to work on a Monday morning?  When I think about us on our freeways in rush hour traffic, alone in our oversized vehicles, rushing through barren wastelands of box stores and strip malls, it makes me want to cry.   Just some food for thought.  

On to brighter and happier things! Below are a few final photographs of my inspirational week in Paris: what I found beautiful or strange or simply photographs of what I saw.  I hope you have enjoyed my posts but what I hope the most is that they have motivated you in some way to think, create or explore.

 (Click HERE to see the blog entry Part One: My first day in Paris or scroll directly below this post to see Part Two)

 

Twenty-nine one day, thirty the next.  Just numbers, they don't mean anything.  I now believe becoming a year older only matters if you also feel a year older, and that my friends can be avoided by doing what we love every day.  Travel, friends, family, wine and good food; if everyone filled their days and lives with more of these, the world would be a happier place. 

As a Canadian, I constantly compare our North American way of life with that of the European's; and with most of the outside world really.  Why do we measure our success by how much money we make, by our job titles or by the size of our house? Why are we expected to willingly sacrifice our time with friends and family for our careers? Why must the career define who we are?  Why do we settle for two or three weeks vacation a year? Why oh why do we take life so seriously?  I know I am generalizing, but it seems to me that other cultures break up the work day with a walk to the local cafe to meet friends for a glass of wine, complimented by a bowl of fresh olives, good bread or a plate of fine cheese, then it's siesta time and back for just a little more work before nightfall.  At the end of the day they head home for a delicious feast around the table (remember those? dinner tables? what a brilliant idea to eat at a table instead of on the couch in front of the TV, it does wonders for your posture).  

I know the "grass is always greener on the other side" but perhaps in this case it actually is.  Those Europeans seem to know how to live correctly.  I did a lot of reflecting in Paris, as I often do when traveling.  It's what I love about traveling; having all the time in the world to just observe life.  At home, life is too fast and the days become weeks and months and then years, it all becomes a blur.  I don't want my life to be a blur so I'm going to continue to live doing what I want, when I want, fill it with friends, family, delicious food, and perhaps, some time soon, a dinner table.

(Click HERE to see the blog entry of my first day in Paris)

 

I like to think that I'm not hung up on age but to say it would be a lie.  Turning 30 was a big deal and I couldn't fool anybody, it bothered me.  I decided something extraordinary must be done to mark this historic day.   Edward, my husband of 4 years, boyfriend of 12 years and best friend of 15 years flew me to the city of love.  

I have not been to a Buddhist retreat in Nepal, or climbed to the summit of Kilimanjaro or even backpacked through central asia, however, I still would like to think that I'm well travelled.   I had my doubts about this destination, thinking the streets would be a sea of tourists lining up to see the next world famous attraction, cameras around their neck grabbing snapshots of every accordion player and street cafe in site.  As I walked the streets with my own camera around my neck I realized there is a reason this place is so popular; for seven days Paris was everything the books and movies said it would be; romantic, alive, artsy and very very delicious.  With upwards of 45 million tourists a year,  there are endless blogs, stories, and photos of travelers' experiences in Paris.  Regardless, I'm convinced that each story is unique, creating countless histories of this truly incredible city.  This is my story, my photos, my 7 days in Paris.

PART ONE:  OUR FIRST DAY IN PARIS

September 9th 2009.  11:15 AM.  Arrive Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport

An overnight flight from Toronto via Montreal on Air Transat landed us in Paris France two days before "the big day".  On our descent, I caught a brief glimpse of the Eiffel tower which was all I needed for the butterflies to begin flying in my stomach. It had been two and half years since my last adventure to Haiti so I was way overdue for another trip.  The excitement was definitely masking any jet lag for the time being.

We landed and made our way downtown on the train via the RER's B line, transfered at Chatelet Les Halles to the Metro, and got off at the Hotel de Ville station.  Easy to navigate and efficient, the metro was a great way to travel since we only had a couple of bags each.

Out on the street, our apartment was only a short walk away from the Metro which took us along the river Seine and into Paris' oldest neighborhoods.   We went all-out on this trip and rented a studio apartment in an 18th century building on beautiful Ile Saint-Louis. Located in the heart of the city, the apartment was only meters from the Seine and Notre Dame; absolutely one of the most incredible locations we have ever stayed and everything we'd hoped it would be; a truly Parisian experience.  A large heavy door and the echo in the hallway greeted us as we walked up the stone staircase to the second floor apartment.  High ceilings with old wooden beams and floor-to-ceiling windows with heavy velvet draping framed a cremerie and a boulangerie outside on the cobblestone street. Perfect.

With jet lag setting in we quickly left the apartment so that sleep couldn't claim our first day.  For the next few hours we wandered the streets, snapping photos of everything from people to pigeons to door knobs.  Historically, Ile Saint-Louis was the beginning of Paris itself.  Today, it remains largely unchanged since the 17th century with spectacular architecture, quaint clothing and food shops, mansions, apartments, art galleries and book stores, and of course the ever-present cafes. This island is the Paris that people dream about.

Back in our apartment, windows wide open, we sat and enjoyed our first bottle of wine watching the street below.   Finally allowing the jet lag to take over, we drifted to sleep to sounds of the city coming alive at night. 

Arriving at our apartment, our home for the next 7 days.

 

The Seine and view of Notre Dame, around the corner from our apartment. 

 Wandering the streets of Ile Saint Louis