There are a few things that I must share, and with that a few hi-lights of the trip.
Flying RyanAir is never a good or fun idea (even when you are on a college student and zero income budget, it still sucks) though it is totally necessary. Ciampino airport is a good 45 miles OUTSIDE of the city limits of Rome, 2 buses, a subway ride, and a shuttle later I finally arrived...I walked out my door at 2:15 and got to the aiport at 5:30, I spent more time in transit than on the actual plane. Beauvais (the Paris airport) is also ridiculously outside of Paris. Also, they have a ridiculous baggage policy. Now I am not hating on Ryan Air...it got me where I needed to be, but I do miss the days of hopping in a taxi to SFO and arriving in 20 minutes.
Complaints aside, being greeted by a familiar face, macarons and a bottle of Rose in the freezing Paris spring is always a nice feeling. As are finally putting your suitcases down and watching John Hughes movies in the early hours of the morning.
I completely enjoyed my first afternoon walking around the city, croque-monsieur in hand, sun and blue skies above. I crossed over the Siene and wandered through the side of Paris that I knew, feeling like a sort of grown-up Madeline in my blue coat and black ballet flats. Stumbling upon a tent at fashion week also added to the greatness of that day, along with my lipstick stained venti Starbucks coffee cup...yes, FINALLY I got my Starbucks. Following my afternoon stroll, I met up with Haley and we wandered around belle Paris in the dark, returning to her apartment only to get ready for a night of dancing...until 5 in the morning, which is apparently normal there. The last time I stayed out until 5 in the morning was on New Year's Eve, and it wasn't spent dancing...even Numbers closes at 2:30, and I am always totally exhausted by the time they kick us out.
The next day I spent wandering through the D'Orsay, which is my favourite museum in the city. The Louvre is wonderful, do not get me wrong there, but for me...when I think of France I think of Impressionism. I think vanGogh and Gauguin, Matisse, Monet, Degas, Manet, Seurat, and so,so many more. While the Art Institute Chicago has such an incredible collection of Impressionism, there is still nothing like seeing it on it's own turf, in its own terms. Currently the museum (formerly a train station) is under construction and they have re-arranged the collection. As of late the pieces are hung by artist and next to or near another artist who encouraged, influenced, or competed with the first...of course vanGough and Gauguin are in the same gallery. That is a relationship I would like to explore a little more.
Speaking of Vincent, there was nothing in the world like standing there, looking him right in the eye. Finally I saw his self portrait in blue. I can't remember if I saw it the first time I went (knowing my mother I probably did), but this time, there was something that just kept me standing there. I always have loved Degas' dancers, I used to always say they were my favourite piece of Impressionist work, but now, that really isn't true anymore. This one work is one of the most beautiful, and yet the most haunting that I have ever seen. I think I could have sat in that one room for the entire afternoon.
The remainder of my time in Paris was spent shopping and eating, of course.
Friday brought me to wandering through Le Bon Marche, The Galleries Lafayette, and strolling up and down Rue Saint-Honore.
As night fell we wandered through Mont Martre eating crepes and laughing. In the mood to see where the night took us, we ended up in Pigalle, which is NOT somewhere two cute girls want to be in pretty dresses. Hands down the TRASHY side of Paris no one ever dares to bring up when they are talking about how fabulously chic is it (though I did get some amazing photos).
My last afternoon was spent getting to the Marais to enjoy some falafel and playing tourist.
No trip to Paris would have been complete without a baguette...90 cents in total, and it was the best bread I had tasted in my entire life.
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