Lost in Translation

I have always been keen to visit Paris for many years, but never had the opportunity.  But now the big day had finally arrived.  In no time at all, my time for departure was drawing near.  So after getting ready, double checked everything, ensured that I had my passport, I headed to the airport.

The first thing that came to mind when I got to Paris was that not all French can speak English, and I have been told that those who know English will sometimes refuse to speak it.  So, after I landed and exited the airport, I tried to avoid any conversation with anyone as I speak no French at all.  I stood in line waiting to get out, the usual nothing to declare and stuff to declare lines.  They didn’t check everyone’s bags here, only random checks.  But, what you gained out of less security hassle, they made up in a near chaotic run to the exit by almost everyone.  There was completely no order in any way.  Morning flights from Asia were all arriving around the same time in the morning.  I waited for about an hour for my bags to come around and while I waited more flights landed and more people cluttered around the luggage belt.  And what was it? Right in front of one of the belts, an airport staff was busy lining up his carts as if there wasn’t any other place to do it.

I hopped on a bus to the city and my holiday began. It was a cool December, not yet too cold.  My hotel, Du Cigne Hotel is nice and quite, but outside it was a bit noisy.  It was located smack dab in the middle of Paris on a pedestrian street lined with shops.  A block away was a street with sex shops and peep shows and all that.

After lunch I walked to the Notre Dame and had hot coffee at a cafe by the river.  Paris was really the place to sit back and watch people walk by.  Add a clear sky, a view of the river Seine, and you have the perfect afternoon.

It was snowing the next morning. I took a metro to the Eiffel Tower, covered in snowy mist.  I could hardly see the top of it. I then had breakfast at a restaurant close to the tower. While waiting for my breakfast I went to get some cigarettes, so I walked alone to a tobacco store.  Big mistake.  Buying something in a little store in Paris was not as easy as I thought, even in a touristy district like the Eiffel Tower.  I said ‘Marlboro’, he said ‘Makborow’, then I said whatever.  I said the green one, he gave me the red one, so I slowly repeated to him again ‘g r e e n’.  That didn’t help.  I pointed to the green one, he gave me a Camel.  Finally, after the vendor guy pulled half of his cigarettes off the shelf, guessing which one I wanted, he got it right.

After dinner I didn’t want the night to end.  So I made my way to have some drinks at a tapas bar after a late night movie.  I met some Indonesians, who, thank God, didn’t speak French to each other!  We all then moved on to a night club, danced our tootsies off.

Was I still thinking Paris is a city of romance?  Most certainly it is, but I don’t recommend going there alone in December! hahaha .. Would I like to go back?  Without a doubt!