Paris

For a spring morning, Paris is chilly. The sky is a pale grey, not dark, and as such is not intimidating nor scary. The sky, combined with the light fog, rather emanates an air of mystery and nonchalance, which I believe are two attributes very representative of Paris itself. I pull my over-sized scarf a little tighter as the cool breeze cuts through my leather jacket. I pick up a copy of French Vogue at the newsstand by my hotel and walk along the street. Normally I am not a fan of uniformity, but when it comes to Parisian architecture I love the way the dark iron balconies make all the streets of Paris match beautifully. At the first nondescript cafe I see, I decide to take a seat outside. Even though it is cold, I prefer not to sit indoors because I enjoy alternating between people watching and magazine flipping while at french cafes.

I order a cafe au lait and a croissant. I take my time sipping my coffee, which is served in a bowl-like cup. I am making an inevitable mess while eating my croissant since there is no glamorous way of eating something that is the perfect balance of a crispy shell and soft inside. Even though the North American within me wanted to order a Venti and sip it while on-the-go to maximize my morning, I am happy I resisted and opted to have my coffee the french way. Taking the time to savor and enjoy my coffee is something I wish I did more of back home.

After paying l’addition, I head to les Grands Magasins. I adore shopping in France. As much as Milan may be the fashion capital of the world, I enjoy french mode a bit more. I peruse through Maje and Sandro’s sections in Galleries Lafayette. I then head to The Kooples, a new personal favorite of mine. The pret-a-porter brand combines french elegance with a touch of eccentric British style. Following the purchase of a cozy striped asymmetrical sweater, ideal for an end of winter/pre-spring ensemble, I treat myself to a few Pierre Herme macarons. Macarons are the one dessert I do not feel guilty about splurging on since they are virtually impossible to make at home- I tried once and it was a disaster. I choose three macarons (I would need to take out a second mortgage for the fourth); rose petal, pistachio and salted caramel respectively.

With my purchases in hand and my sweet tooth satiated, I hesitate between either going to le Musée d’Orsay or le Musée de l’Orangerie. Whenever there are no art exhibitions that pique my interest in Paris, I always go to either one. Much like I never get sick of watching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Pulp Fiction,  I never tire to look at the permanent collection of both le Musée d’Orsay and le Musée de l’Orangerie. Since the latter is closer in proximity, I choose to go there.

The museum is small by Paris standards, which is something I quite like. I enjoy being able to see the entire collection of a museum in one visit. As I arrive in my favorite room, the one that displays Monet’s Water Lilies, I sit on the bench in the very center. The painting is 360 degrees and is displayed in a circular space. I could sit in this room for hours. Each time I rearrange my position on the bench, I get a completely different view.

Just as I am realizing the lack of food with substance I have consumed today, and therefore feel instantaneously ravenous, I notice the time. I am supposed to meet a friend in Montmartre for a late lunch this afternoon. As I leave the museum and head to the nearest metro station, I note the weather has warmed up. The sky is not blue, but one can now notice the few strands of sunlight that managed to make their way through the lighter parts of the overcast. Walking through the Jardin des Tuileries, I notice the Eiffel tower and les Champs Élysées way off in the distance. The serenity of the Jardin des Tuileries contrasts heavily with the busy and hectic nature of Place de la Concorde, which is right on the cusp of the park’s entrance.

After a short metro ride from Concorde, I make my way up the many stairs towards Sacré Coeur Cathedral (I always forget which metro station drops you off at the top as opposed to the very bottom). I notice my friend sitting on the grass holding a bag from the grocery store in one hand, and in true french fashion, a bottle of champagne in the other. Together we eat cheeses, fruits and charcuterie whilst sipping on our champagne. She tells me about her new life in Paris both the downsides and, while pointing at the bottle of champagne, the numerous upsides.

The sun starts to feel low in the sky as I say aurevoir to my good friend. I head back to my hotel to enjoy a nice nap and shower before meeting up with friends later on for an aperitif and night out. I iron my silk dress and lay it out on the chair along with my heels to have my outfit ready for when I wake up. My head hits the pillow and I feel both excited for my evening to come and satisfied with my perfect day spent enjoying Paris.