I could write forever about Paris and its many sights, sounds, and smells (yes, even the smells: cheese shops, bakeries, flower markets, meat shops, crepe stands in the streets...) But instead, I will just include some of the highlights:
Wandering around the tiny streets in the Latin Quarter on a sunny Saturday morning, and seeing the "real" Paris - Parisians walking their dogs and carrying baguettes and coming home from the Saturday market to their charming old apartment buildings - rather than only the busy, tacky tourist sections.
A very long walk from Notre Dame to the Arc du Triomphe. The sights inbetween included: The Seine, Pont Neuf, The Louvre, le Jardin des Tuileries, l'Avenue des Champs-Elysees, and views of the Eiffel Tower.
Montmartre: the Sacre Coeur and the surrounding neighborhood, especially the artists painting portraits and scenes of Paris.
And of course, looking out over the city and spotting la Tour Eiffel in the distance.
The Musee D'Orsay. The building was beautiful, and my favorite paintings were those Monet and Degas, although they were all stunning and wonderful.
Strolling through the Luxembourg Gardens (twice!) on a sunny afternoon. It was a wonderful place for people watching. For example, Parisans often jog in scarves and sweaters, and jump at every opportunity to sun bathe (even when it is early March and 30 degrees Farenheit)
So, you might ask, is there anything I didn't like about Paris? The one thing that frustrated me is also something that many Americans appreciate about Paris.
Any guesses?
Everyone speaks English. And by everyone, I mean everyone.
Parisans hear the slightest bit of an American accents, and refuse to speak anything but English - even if my French skills are one million times better than their knowledge of the English language. Frustrating? Yes. I believe I had a few "bilingual" conversations in which I spoke French and the Parisian spoke English. At times, they were perfectly proficient in English. Other times, it was a failed attempt (on their end only, of couse, as I have been getting by just fine with my French skills while in Angers.)
I came home on Sunday evening exhausted, and found it suddenly difficult to understand what my host family was saying. I am used to speaking with them every day and taking classes in French all day long, and even at restaurants and train stations, not using any English at all to communicate with French people. While I speak English with my fellow Notre Dame students (it's tricky to recount a complicated story in French, so we eventually resort to our native tongue even when we try to use French with one another).
Yet somehow, I spent three days in the largest city in France, and my French language and my comprehension skills made a little bit of negative progress!?! C'est dommage.
While Paris did live up to and exceed my wildest dreams, I happily boarded a train to Angers on Sunday afternoon and came back to my warmer and quieter city, my own bedroom and shower, and my loving host family.
When I told people I was going to study in Angers, France, many wondered "where is that?" or "why not Paris?" Well, there you have it. I live in a real French town with a real French family and speak French every day. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Paris, je t'aime. Angers, je t'aime beaucoup.
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