Paris, une ville agréable

We arrived in the dark and proceeded towards Montmartre in a taxi piloted by the angriest, craziest taxi driver we had ever experienced. Or maybe he was just French.
Twenty minutes later and we were outside the Sacré-Cœur, and 200m after that we saw Mum and Dad hanging out the window, wine in hand.

The first day was upon us, a day that we were very excited for. A day that, we all realised was slightly sacrilegious! But we didn't care, we were off to Disneyland. Many "my children need wine" jokes later and we were finally inside. Walking through as the gates open I might add, and straight to Indiana Jones and the Temple of Peril.
We pretty much spent the rest of the time high on adrenaline, candied foods, and the extra oxygen that must be pumped in to every indoor space to keep the crowds elated.

Skipping forward to our second day we did something that was for our inner adults, as opposed to our inner children. We boarded a train and headed east to the Champagne district. More specifically we made a beeline towards Épernay and the Moet & Chandon cellars. Paying our respects to the statue of Dom Pierre Perignon (the patron saint of gettin' down and partying) we headed in and descended into the 28km of limestone tunnels the snaked their way beneath the town. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, of bottle of Moet adorned the labyrinth, each in a different stage of completion. Some just starting the first stages of secondary fermentation, others upside down enabling the sediment to settle. And some, a very select few, only the best of the best, were down there for the long haul, collecting dust for the better part of a decade until the perfect Vintage had been aged to perfection. Magnificent.

Day three was the final day. Not the final day of our trip, but the final day of the year. The final day of 2015, and the last few hours of the biggest year of our lives. I spent the day idly wandering Montmartre with Mum and Dad, Parisian lunch, art markets, a buzz was in the air, an excitement. Our night began like any other, fine food, wine, great company. But then we turned in up a notch and boogied in our palatial apartment, with pina coladas and an assortment of different French wines, until about half eleven.
Loading our pockets with supplies we made the short pilgrimage to the top of the hill to join an eager crowd, ready for the fresh starts in a new year.
Bringing a portable speaker helped break the ice, and soon we were surrounded by new friends (including Christoph Waltz) dancing and drinking, watching the Eiffel Tower burst to life with bright lights to signify midnight. The rest of the evening was spent on top of the City of Lights in a dance circle that encouraged any passers by to join in. Happy New Year.

The next day we can skip for reasons that I wish not to disclose.
Hanging around not going out, very eager rest!

A day of recovery later and we were ready to see the parasites, that is to say the Paris Sites. We raced around all day ticking off the Notre Dame, Louvre, Place de la Concord, Grand Palais, and finally the Eiffel Tower. Unfortunately with the weather closing in we made the executive decision to quicken the pace on the Iron Lady of Paris, opting to come back the next day. And besides, we had a night bus to catch.
A walk through the miserable drizzle and I couldn't help recall Owen Wilson talking about how much more beautiful Paris is in the rain in Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris. "Perhaps" I thought, "but it I might appreciate it more if I was dry" - "or Owen Wilson!".
Our night bus took us on a tour of the city. Our audio guide providing an interesting narrative on the history of the many sites we saw. Did you know for instance, that the Metro was built entirely for the 1900 World's Fair to help ease the city's congestion during the busy time. And, that it is so poorly connected, compared to say the London Underground, because the routes had to follow existing roads as tunnelling under private residences would have been a logistical, and bureaucratic nightmare.
Alighting under the bright red windmill that is Moulin Rouge, we slowly walked back to our abode and bid Paris a very good night.

Rain. Cold, driving rain that soaked you to the bone. A wind that blew right through you, and at times threatened to knock you down. The one structure in the whole world that was not going to provide us with an inch of shelter happened to be the one we were climbing. Determined, we plodded up step by step. The higher we got the windier it got, the wetter we got, and the more excited we became. There is nothing quite like the satisfaction of climbing the Eiffel Tower. Although had I not been such a stinge I might have opted for the elevator, but then again, where is the fun in that!
What a view, even though we were half blinded by the rain pouring off our foreheads, we were still able to take in the breathtaking vista that is Paris. And considering there was no one else up there with us, maybe Owen Wilson was right. Paris is better in the pissing rain.
However beautiful, for all the satisfaction of climbing the structure, I wasn't disappointed to be back at our apartment sipping tea and thawing off by the heater.
The rest of that evening would be spent winding down, and enjoying each others company. Mum and Dad were off the next morning, back to Canada, and we were off too, to continue our adventure.

What a wonderful week we spent in Paris, and what a way to ring in the new year. For all the big, impressive things that we did, I think my resounding memories of this trip will be the small things. Sitting in cafes enjoying a buttery croissant, attempting to communicate in very broken French, avoiding the constant dog crap and equally prevalent hecklers. Paris is an amazing city, somewhere to just take in. The sights and sounds, the aromas and thick sweet tastes hanging in the air. A place full of art and poetry and music and heritage. A place this is now only a two hour train away from our house! We will be back.

Paris Je t'aime x