New Year and New Opportunity to Blog

The New Year brings an opportunity to commit to write in the blog. This year I would not only like to talk about writing….I would like to see me succeed at writing. My mentor, Gen, will hopefully jog my fingers to hit the keyboard. I have many trips and locations (Athens, Santorini, Sicily, Monte Carlo, Rome) that I have not entered into my blog. And I have a new journey to talk about as I journey toward my first grandchild. I hope that I will succeed and you will see more entries in my journey. My journey continues…

Today my heart is in Paris as I watch the news and see Paris under attack. My prayers are heavy for my beloved city and the people there.

Back to my Love

Editor’s note: The last entry was written in July, 2013, but not completed due to the business of life.  I will now try to complete, oh well, at least add a new entry.

Now I was going back to my love for another visit.  We were going to spend only one night in Paris before going to Southern France.  We took the taxi to our hotel in the Latin Quarter.  It was the first time in Saint Jacques on Ecoles and I was excited. We had booked our room on line.  One night now and two nights on the return. (The hotel we had called home for our visits before was sold and updated to a modern theme…not our style.) The taxi ride seemed strange, we usually took the transfer van.  I did not really recognize when we entered the city as we kept changing streets due to traffic congestion.

But finally Ecoles and life seemed coming back to normal.  The boutique hotel had charm.  We were greeted and told our room was not ready yet, as is usually since we always arrive in the morning.  We had arranged to have our luggage stored in the hotel as we left to revisit our walking city.  We knew we wanted to go to lunch near the Opera.  At l’Entracte Opera we went upstairs and had a lovely table looking onto the Opera.  I tried to find something new on the menu but ordered my usual duck and St Emillion wine.  One taste and I am back.  Cafe creme, after the meal while looking at the wonderful Opera building, brings me back to why I love this place. Life is good, so good I could cry.  

We leave and make our way to the Galerias Lafayette to see something new.  Although we have been to there before we had not sent the food section of the store.  This time we gave our senses a visit to remember.

Looking above at the building glass dome above the Dior

We travel gently looking up at the beautiful dome of colored glass.  Glitter comes to mind as you look up and feel like you are in a magic kingdom.  A princess could come and greet you at any point.

Colored Glass Dome and balconies of Galeries Lafayette

When we arrive at the food court, we are further amazed at the wonderful selection of food.  We make a note to come back on our return trip to Paris and buy gifts to take home.  (Note to travelers: When we did come back, alas, the store was not open on Sunday, our one day to shop. We left with sad faces.)

Spices at the food section

We had found another favorite place in Paris.

On our return to the hotel, we stopped at our favorite neighborhood store, Monoprix. We bought our water for the evening and final items needed before we headed south the next morning.  At St. Jacques, we were welcomed once again and shown our room. After refreshing (showers were wonderful), we checked our information on getting to the train station the next morning.  Try as I have, my French ability is still extremely limited.  The staff at St Jacques did speak English so my communication was not limited to having my daughter near.  The next morning we would leave by train for the south and another adventure would begin.

Return to Paris

Time to fly back to my love, Paris.  We fly to Charlotte and change planes.  My excitement was tempered by the fact we were flying US Airways.  I admit I was concerned due to past history of flying the airline but it was years ago.  To my delight, US Airways was wonderful.  We flew to Charlotte and had a lovely time in the airport waiting on out next flight.  All came to halt when Air Force One landed and all traffic stopped.  I guess the president wanted to wish us a good trip.  During the halt of air traffic movement we appealed to US Airways to see if on our return flight from Paris we could find better seats.  Again to our delight, US Airways found favor with us and we were moved to row 11 on the return flight.

Upon the president’s departure, we were ready to fly to Paris.  My excitement to see Paris again overcame my fear of flying over the ocean again.  I was able to sleep for a while knowing I would be walking the streets of Paris soon.

D’Orsay Clock

Time to go Back to my Love, Paris, France

Paris Partie Deux

Part Two of my Paris Blogs

Elated to have finally been to Paris, I returned to my work to passionately tell everyone of my trip.  If you crossed my path, somehow Paris came up in the conversation.  I was a walking advertisement.  Even the fact of the transportation strike was a ‘blessing’ because it forced us to walk and ground ourselves to Paris.  My love was stronger with each telling of the story.

But as with any love, I did not get enough time with Paris.  I did not stay long enough and I wanted to know more about her and be with her.  I needed more time with my new love and a good opportunity was coming to me.

A couple of weeks after returning my niece called with some exciting news.  She was planning on going to Paris for graduate school.  What did I think?

What did I think? I thought it was wonderful.  If I could go back and be in my twenties, I would love to find myself living in Paris.  I whole-heartedly endorsed her decision and found myself wishing I could had been so brave when I was younger.  What a dream!  We talked about the city and the excitement of experiencing Paris by living there.  I was so happy for her.  And then, the excitement turned to me.

This means another important thing … I need to go back to Paris while she is there.  Hooray, I have a reason to spend more money that I don’t have to go to Paris.  She had been in Paris a few months when once again I boarded a plane to fly over the ocean to my love, Paris. Isn’t it funny how Love overcomes Fear?  My love for Paris overcame my Fear of flying over the ocean.

My daughter and I booked with Gate 1 Travel once again.  The price had gone up somewhat but was still cheaper than buying the airfare and hotel on my own.  We flew direct to Paris this time on Delta.  I tried to a better student of travel and slept on the plane as my daughter had recommended.  When we arrived, I was ready to find the transfer to the hotel.

Arriving at the same hotel we had stayed at on my first visit, we were happy when they offered us a larger room with a larger bath.  They greeted us with smiles and we felt at home.  They said breakfast was still being served.  Music to our ears as we loved the lovely room where breakfast was served.  We got our usual coffee with warm milk.   The same lovely lady was there making sure everyone had what they needed. We felt like we had arrived at a second home. How could anyone find Paris unfriendly?  My second trip and I felt at home.

My niece met us for lunch and we were off to a section of the city that was not known to us… Le Marais section.  We walked down the old streets and fell in love again.  Just as we loved the Latin Quarter, we now loved the Marais.  We ate at one of her favorite bistros and it was wonderful.  The more we walked, the more we loved the sector.  We would return the next two days to explore some more.  We went to the Paris Museum, Musee Carnavalet, and Victor Hugo’s apartment near Place des Vosges, the oldest square in Paris.  We had lunch at a Jewish bakery started by holocaust survivors.  We shopped at the beautiful shops.  The more we walked, the more we loved.

Luckily on this trip the transportation was available.  I needed my trusted guide, my daughter, to lead me, guide me, and instruct me on the metro and the bus lines for trips out of walking distance.  Walking was still our preferred mode of transportation.  Walking and Paris are words that go hand and hand.  But the trains allowed me to go farther and see more in a short time.

I went to Montmartre on my own and visited Sacre Coeur.  To go there I have to change trains and, as I walked from station, I took pictures so I could remember how to get back. On the way back, I tried not to look like a tourist (impossible, I know) and tried not to speak.  I held my pocketbook very close to me, somewhat of a paranoid traveler.  But my excursion on my own was stimulating.  On the way back to the Latin Quarer, I stopped at the Louvre and was surprised to stumble upon a procession around the arc.  There were men dressed in military attire dating back to days of Napoleon to modern times.  They were laying a wreath in honor of Napoleon.  Such a wonderful surprise that Paris planned  for me.   All the dignitaries, costumes, and music was enough to take me back in time.   I felt like I was stepping back into my newspaper days as I took pictures.

We visited our favorite bistros.  We ate macaron, onion soup, and drank wine.  We went to mass at Notre Dame.  We had a glorious time.  It was time to leave once again.  Once again, I was leaving and never returning.  As we rode to the airport, it started to rain.  I told my daughter, “Paris is crying because I am leaving.”

Within six months, I had been to Paris twice.  I had fallen in love and that love remains.  I came home to try to learn the language.  I remain a walking advertisement due to my love.  Over five years have passed but my love for Paris is still strong.  I only wish my skills of learning the language were stronger.

In a few weeks, I will return once again to my beloved city.  I have one night before I go to the South of France for a week.  I have two nights on the way back.  I am so excited to see what my beloved Paris has planned for my trip.  We were disappointed to find that the hotel we had stayed at twice had been changed.  It is now updated and modern.  So sad.  But it gave us the opportunity to find a small hotel down the street…. Hotel St Jacques.  We are excited to stay in our same neighborhood, Latin Quarter, and walk to our same favorite locations.  The love affair continues. I have made a promise to my daughter not to cry when I leave this time.  But, can I keep it?

To Begin … out of the waiting room

To Begin … out of the waiting room.

First journey to Paris … fear and trembling

First journey to Paris … fear and trembling.

First journey to Paris … fear and trembling

The ‘first’ of anything in life is memorable.  The first trip to Paris was memorable due to the fear and trembling.  Once I made the decision that I was going, there was no turning back.  The trip was charged on the credit card so I had to charge ahead.  Charge is the key word and that word always brings fear and trembling to me.  I had crossed that fear line of being able to afford the trip and it was done.  Now, on to the fear of crossing the ocean.

My daughter tried to give me pointers about taking the long flight over.  She suggested I sleep as much as I could.  I ate, watched movies, listened to French tapes and took a nap.  Seems sleeping was not first on my mind.  We had booked a KLM flight and now I know that was very wise decision.  The flight staff was very accommodating and the food was better than meals eaten on flights in the states.  The attendant did give us a strange look when we complimented her on the food.  But we were genuinely happy with it.  Water and other goodies were delivered at intervals and I was awake for most deliveries.  Then at some point I realized, the plane was over land again.  We had crossed over the ocean and I had survived.  All the fear of flying over the ocean seemed so pointless now.  I had let this fear keep me from experiencing Europe all these years.  I had held this fear closer than my love to see Paris.  Why was the fear given more importance than the love?  Still pondering why.

We flew into Amsterdam and were to change planes for Paris.  At some point of flying over the ocean, it seems my daughter and I traded places… she was now the more mature mother and I was the child.  She was the experienced world traveler and I was the novice.  I cannot remember why right now, but in Amsterdam my daughter and I were separated. Fear once again rose up and wanted to offer many reasons for her delay.  Here I was in a unfamiliar airport, in a strange country and without my guide.  Should I get on the plane or not?  Thankfully the departure of the plane was delayed as I stood at the gate without her.  I was extremely happy when at last I saw her appear around the corner.  Together once again and on our way to Paris.  When we arrived, the fact that I had not slept except for short naps on the flight over the ocean became important.  I was tired.  Thankfully, my daughter had slept some and was using her French language skills to locate the meeting place of our transport to the hotel.  Excitement started to overtake the tiredness until we reached the hotel.  I had to take a nap, just a small one.  So here it was, the first big time of the “I told you so’s…”  Had she not told me to sleep on the flight over?  This way we could get going when we arrived and get our bodies accustomed to the time change.  She had been right.  I should have slept.  But for two hours I needed my head on the pillow or I could not walk around.

First time in Paris and two hours of sleep and I am good to go on adrenaline. Staying in the Latin Quarter was a wise move directed by a friend at work who said the old part of the city was the best location to home base our trip.  It was especially wise since Paris was having a transportation strike.  Yes, I finally make it to Paris and there is a transportation strike.  But this too turned into a blessing.  Paris is a city you should see while you are walking.  There is something magical about walking the streets of Paris … something so grounding about placing your feet where people have been walking for centuries. No metro, no bus, just our feet.  Our focus shifted from metro stops and bus stops to finding the location of the tour company for our two tours that we had booked during our stay… How much time would it require to walk there and what path we would take to get there?  The best tour guide, my daughter, was on that task.  The next morning, we had a wonderful breakfast at the hotel and headed out for the tour company.  We arrived early enough to be the first on the tour bus and obtain the envious top-front seats. We could sit back and take pictures as the bus took us to the favorite sites in the historic district.  I was giddy.  Last stop of the bus was at Notre Dame.  Heavenly.  From there, we boarded a boat and saw the city from the water.  Peaceful.

Everyday started with breakfast at the hotel.  We learned we could take some baguette and ham from breakfast and wrap with a napkin.  Then no matter where we were around noon, we could have a picnic with our baguette and ham.  We were on a very tight budget but it seemed so Parisian as well.  We could sit in the most beautiful gardens and eat our delicious lunch.  We felt liberated.   My daughter planned the days as how we could walk and see the most of the city.  No metro, no bus.  We walked for miles each day.  On our way walking thru Paris, my daughter taught me how to order cafe creme, how to stand at the bar to pay less, how to ask for the check, and how to use this as a time to go to the bathroom.  She planned one day to walk to the Arc de Triomphe. Yes, she made me walk to the top and look at the city from there.  So glad I did and so glad I could actually walk up all those stairs.  A triumph just doing that.  From there, we walked for a while and every little bit she would ask, do you see the Eiffel Tower?  No, was the answer each time.  Finally, we turned a corner and there it was….the Eiffel Tower.  She had planned a dramatic view for me.  She wanted the Eiffel Tower to seemingly appear from nowhere and it did.

Our pre-booked tour of the Musee de Lourve was planned for a afternoon time and we would have time to walk around the museum on our own after the tour finished.  It was unbelievable and grand.  The tour was wonderful.  Learning about all the art and the building was fantastic but I was looking forward to walking around on my own.  As soon as the tour finished, there was an announcement.  The museum was closing early.  With the transportation strike and so many people driving in the city, it meant everyone needed more time to get home.  Walking back to the hotel was a good visual of the need to close early because we were moving faster than the automobiles on the road.

Another day, after finding the most wonderful macaroon shop, we sat in a park eating our wonderful selection and something caught my eye … a church.  Churches are always catching my eye but this one was very grand.  St Eustache was a treasure that I felt I had found and no one knew about.  As my daughter continued to enjoy her eating treasure, I went to see my visual treasure.  Inside was magnificent.  In reading about Paris, I had never read about this wonderful place.  I really was awe-struck as I walked around and looked at one beautiful scene painted on the walls after the other.  Paris had revealed itself to me as if saying, Come see and enjoy this view that I have saved just for you.  I was beginning to relax and enjoy what Paris had to offer me.  The treasures she had saved just for me to enjoy.

Miles and miles later, it became clear that I would not see all of Paris before I had to leave.  The last night the little girl in me was sad and angry.  All my life I wanted to come to Paris.  I finally overcome my fear and made it and now it was time to go home.  Walking everywhere meant I did not get around fast enough to see all the sights of Paris.  I would never get to come back.  This was it. Tears the next morning as the plane taxied the runway.  I was leaving my love…my Paris and had not felt fulfilled.  It was not enough.  I took lots of memories on that plane with me but lamented that I had not experienced more.  And this was it.  All those years of letting fear keep me away from my love and I was leaving without the feeling being complete.

My daughter likes to laugh at this point.  Within six months, I was back.

To Begin … out of the waiting room

While my journey in life began a while ago, I begin a journey with you.  I have not always thought of my life as a journey but have spent it as time in the waiting room of life, mostly.  I have been living through the days and planning my start on the journey when ‘this’ happens or ‘that’ happens.  

A memorable push out of the waiting room of life was at work talking about wanting to visit Paris.  I have longed to visit Paris for as long as I can remember. One day when talking about it, someone said, “I have heard you talk about going to Paris for ten years.  If you don’t go now, you are never going to go.”  And she was right.  I let fear immobilize me.  I did not think I could cross that body of water.  I did not think I could afford going.  All the ‘not’s knotted me up and tied me down in life’s waiting room.  The urging of someone who stood by my computer until I actually had the nerve to push the keys and make my reservations was miraculous. A leap of faith.

This journey with you is a leap of faith as well.  Writing a blog is something I have thought about for years but have been fearful about doing.  Let’s leave the waiting room and begin.