Paris First three days.
I arrived in Paris on Tuesday January 10th at about 10am. I hadn’t gotten in touch with my landlord but assumed he had gotten my email telling him of my time of arrival and that I would meet him at the apartment- He hadn’t. Luckily after a few trial and error attempts at guessing the French phone code I got in touch with him and we met at 45 Avenue de Friedland at 11am approximately 200 feet away from the Arc de Triomphe. I don’t think there is any address closer to it.
My Landlord is a very jolly, kind, flamboyantly gay, straight man. When I first met him he was wearing a lavender tweed knee length jacket and a deep purple cashmere scarf with a gray top hat. He was very tall, about 6’3” and totes a 6lb 3oz nervous Chihuahua.
Between the two of us we managed to tote my 63lb bag up to my apartment on the 6th floor, ( which should really be renamed the 9th floor, as you are required to climb nine sets of stairs to get there.. every day..) My apartment is cozy, if you know what I mean. At first I was a little shocked at the size- just enough space for my twin bed, tiny desk/dining table, closet, and kitchenette/vanity stand- but now, as I write this entry from my bed, having put away most of my things, I rather love it.
Except it has two minor drawbacks, but I willing to overlook both of them because of one simple fact- I am in Paris.
1.The sheets that were given to me to use were quite mildewy and had some unmentionable stains and hairs embedded in them (quick fix- bought a cheap new set at MonoPrix on the Champs- Elysees next door)
2. I have to walk outside, through an airshaft to get to my bathroom (what better way to wake myself up in the morning after a shower?)
After dropping off my luggage at the apartment I ventured out into the city for a 2 hour walk to the hostel where NYU had told us orientation would be held. I started out walking down the Champs, which felt a little too familiar to the bustling time square I am so happy to not have to walk through for the next 4 months, so I took a right towards the Siene, walking passed Le Petit Palias. From then on I used my map loosely, guiding me in the general direction of the 13th arrondisement, but after too long on one particular street I would veer myself off to another side street, trusting my inner compass.
Even on a cloudy day the streets were breathtaking, embodying-no overachieving the clichés and images I had built of them in my head. Boulongeries on every corner, tiny cafes, old women buying baguettes, etc.
I made it to the orientation with way more blisters and way less energy, my walk having deceived me into thinking I was actually awake. I sat down in the lobby where the other new comers were sitting, reviewing their welcome week materials and promptly fell asleep… awkward.
After what was probably 10 minutes I jolted awake and rushed myself to the café to get a double espresso- make that quadruple- and engage someone-anyone! In conversation to stay awake until orientation was over. I met Tom and Alaster, two NYU Abu Dhabi students, Australian, and Canadian respectively. They are now my good friends. Today Tom and I planned a couple of trips we want to take in Europe over the course of the semester.
The rest of the night was pretty uneventful, because I was a sleep walking and talking for most of it. But I did take a different route home. I walked up to the Seine via the 5th Arrondisement with some friends then broke off and walked from Notre Dame back to L’Arc De Triomphe by myself. I’m sure someone (many people) has already said this, so I guess I’ll agree with them instead of pretending like I’m the first one to notice- but Paris is even more beautiful in the dark. Every surf
ace glitters with it’s own unique source of light.
Made it back to my apartment, climbed 8 flights of ladder-like stairs- that smell like a vat of organic honey I might add- and then passed out in my mildew sheets… with the windows open.
My Roundtrip Walk:
haha narcolepsy
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