This was written awhile back, when I had no ties. I do now, a dog Lucy, a cat Sofie and a boyfriend Corwyn, who I very much love. When I wrote this I was thinking of living in Paris, which still may happen some day even if it’s just a short time. I dream of renting an apartment in Paris and finishing my book. Oh, wouldn’t that be nice!!
On my 50th Birthday in 2008, I took a solo trip to Paris. It is the city of Lights and of amore and I fell in love with it.
I walked the streets a newcomer, but left feeling like I belonged to it some how. On my first night, I was drinking a vin rose at a corner cafe down the street from my boutique hotel in the garden district and over heard some Americans talking about their lives there. I thought, now wouldn’t that be a dream come true.
I have no ties, in fact, everything I own, minus my car and my cat and some personal belongings that I have taken on the road, is still in a moving POD in New Jersey. So it wouldn’t be that far fetched if I found a job to actually jump the Atlantic and live there.
When I was in New Mexico, a woman my age said, if I was you I just join the Peace Corp and see the world. Well, I don’t want to do that, but I sure would love to live in one of those romantic apartments by the Eiffel Tower and just watch the people out my window, as I write my memoir. I must learn French. Why not? I am in French Louisiana.
People from all over the world come to American to live out there dreams. Why not me? I have to explore this. I am not getting any younger.
My sister longs to live in London. I liked London, but it reminded me too much of Manhattan or had a similar feel. Paris felt different and the fact that English wasn’t spoken there made more compelling to me. I came alive there. Rome was also wonderful, but Paris brought out something in my soul. It has been beckoning me for a very long time. So I am putting that desire out there to the Universe – make it happen so I can live and work in Paris!
While there I saw the usual tourist attractions, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Napoleon’s Arc De Truimphe, Champs-Elysees, Versailles, the Lourve and other several museums and Versailles.
My last day was to be a walking tour to find a statue. Prior to my first visit to Paris, my girlfriend and I took a trip to Boston where I spotted an oil painting of a Paris street in an antique dealer’s window. I had to have it. I immediately went in and made him and offer for $50 less than the $525 price tag and he took it. It was painted in the 1950s by a British painter. It depicted a Parisian street on an overcast day in the fall, as dusk settled in and dim light of the oil street laterns fell on the damp streets. In the foreground were people in period attire, a horse and carriage and a flower merchant. In the background was a statue. I later found out through research that it was an actual street in Paris with statue of the Republique.
Round trip it was a seven hour trek, but the journey there and back was well worth it. I had a french bread sandwich. I tried to order a half of sandwich, but my French and my hand gestures didn’t seem to help. But the sandwich was very tasty and I enjoyed the entire thing.
I had some French pastry and coffee, stopped in at the Hard Rock Cafe and just enjoyed the sights and sounds of the Left Bank. I thought some miraculous thing was going to happen once I found the statue, but no it was the journey that was the magical part. Just as in life.