Upon learning that I was going abroad, the majority of inquisitive people wondered why Paris was my initial choice. I could speak very little of the language, and fashion (though an interest of mine) wasn’t something I was willing to travel across the ocean for. Maybe some would consider it foolish to travel to another country purely for inspiration. The easier route would’ve been to go to London. After all, that’s what an English major would do. England, as a whole, is the home of some of the world’s most famous writers. Aside from not really enjoying England the first time around, I wanted to challenge myself.
As someone often guilty of pessimism, I tried to keep my expectations tempered. I didn’t want to romanticize Paris so much that it didn’t hold up to my fantastic expectations. I didn’t want to think that the destination of so many writers before me was an experience unique to them. And perhaps, I thought, I might’ve been so wrapped up in missing home that I let my experience pass me by.
My four months in Paris were everything I expected and so much more. Walking along the streets in the early afternoon allowed me to people watch, and explore some of the lesser known statues and monuments. Opting to walk home from class (an hour-long trek from Boulevard Raspail to the Cadet neighborhood) gave me a chance to stop for gelato and stroll through the narrow, boutique-lined streets. On a warm day, I remember just allowing my feet to wander home, and feeling a gentle rush of relief when the streets opened to the Seine (and the Lourve). In my mind, the Seine was the dividing line between a neighborhood I’d yet to explore, and a neighborhood I called home. I fell deeply in love with the quiet of the riverside (on a good day), and the multiple cafes with outer terraces facing the street. I’d bring my journal along and write about my surroundings, what I did that day, what I planned on doing, and what I missed from back home.
In a short list of what I experienced in Paris: I went on a movie date with a French guy I met in a bookshop, I saw Skrillex and CL at a pop up show for 11 euros, I went on an all-night journey to an obscure jazz club (which was closed) in the Latin Quarter with a group of American students I met that night, I drank cheap wine and giggled with friends on the street, and I walked 3 miles across Paris just to see the Eiffel Tower at night. For me, a person who never leaves her comfort zone, I went in purely for a new artistic perspective. At the end of the day, I received so much more inspiration than I truly expected. And even still, there’s so much more that I want to experience.