An Evening In Paris

Getting up at five in the morning was never more exciting as it was on this particular Saturday morning. A cup of instant coffee,  an instant shower and  a scrumptious butter pretzel later, my friend and I were just in time to  board our super cool, super fast TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse, meaning high-speed train) to Paris.

So, there we sat in our cozy comfortable corner, smug about the fact that we would hit Paris in three hours, with not even the slightest inkling of what fate had in store for us. Much to our consternation, the train hauled into Paris at 12 in the afternoon.

Locating the tourist information center was an arduous task as it is tucked in a tiny little corner of the sprawling Paris Est station. After an irksome 45 minutes, we managed to reach the counter in one piece with all our luggage intact. The information booth was manned by a single attendant who, despite being overworked, was one of the most helpful attendants that I have come across during my travels in Europe. Patiently, he answered all my frenzied questions about public transport passes, where to collect our pre booked Louvre tickets, orientation of the city on our tourist map..and so on.

As we were going to spend close to three days in Paris, it was economical to invest in the three day-three zone public transport pass which gave us access to the Metros, RERs (Rapid Transit System) and the local buses. Our hotel was located in a convenient locality known as Cambronne and was about a minute’s walk from the Cambronne metro station. Having figured out which metro to catch, we proceeded to the corresponding platform.

The Paris underground metro kingdom turned out to be a maze of tunnels, passages and moving walkways. It resembled a kingdom to me because it seemed to have a life of it’s own. Right there in the very bowels of Paris, there thrives a living, breathing alternate civilization. In the narrow passages, one can spot budding musicians playing all sorts of exotic instruments like the xylophone, the tambourine and the banjo.

Fruit vendors, souvenir vendors and second-hand booksellers share space on the sidewalks to display their wares. The walls are adorned with colourful graffiti and posters announcing upcoming musicals/art shows. The metro trains in themselves are quite ancient, rickety and almost always ready to come apart at the seams. The diversity and the density of the crowd travelling with us brought back memories of metro trains in a city thousands of miles away. If you are an Indian, you would instantly understand that I am referring to the the local trains in Mumbai which can qualify as the impoverished step sisters of the Paris metro.

We travelled with musicians and their instruments, painters with their easels and paint boxes, students from around the world, people dressed in neat business suits as well as people clad in bohemian couture and dreadlocks and of course fellow tourists. Just like our Mumbaikers, the Parisians believe in wriggling their way into overcrowded trains and with a shove here and a push there, they manage to achieve this feat. To ensure that I did not get lost in the crowd (It is not an advantage to be a tiny person in crowded places), I firmly held on to my companion.

Our hotel room turned out to be tiny albeit comfortable. After having washed off the strain of the journey, we ventured out. Pont Neuf, our first stop, is the oldest standing bridge across the river Seine in Paris. There, amidst the several locks on the railing signifying everlasting love of innumerable couples, the magnificent Louvre on one side and the beautiful Palais de Justice on the other, I caught my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower which rendered me speechless.

Far away, looming majestically over the city of Paris was this gigantic metallic structure which had once upon a time suffered heavy criticism from the Parisian populace as it was considered to be a blot on the landscape. The overcast sky was kind enough to give us just sufficient time to click a few pictures and bask in the beauty of the moment and the surroundings before it burst into a light shower. We took shelter under the tin roof of a sidewalk cafe and continued to admire the Pont Neuf from a distance. The drizzle ceased as quickly as it had started and a golden sun emerged from under a sheet of dark clouds.

With the sun shining gaily upon us, we continued our walk along the high walls of the Louvre. I could not get myself to believe that I was physically standing in front of the world’s most famous museum which houses 35,000 pieces of the most famous art. Slowly we edged our way into the Louvre compound which in itself was beautiful as it was brimming with massive marble and stone sculptures of warriors, horses, angels and the likes.

As we entered, we found ourselves staring agape at the colossal arena enclosed by a fortress like structure which is actually the Louvre and smack in the center of this arena was the famous glass Pyramid which serves as a main entrance to the grand museum. For a couple of seconds both of us just stood there coming to terms with the splendour we were witnessing. After some time, we shook ourselves out of our reverie and started the long stroll from the Louvre complex crossing the Jardin de Tuileries, past the Place de la Concorde with the Egyptian obelisk to the grand Boulevard Champs de Elysees.

In my opinion, Paris resembles a very creative child’s playroom. Just as a toddler strews his play things all over his room, a stuffed bear here, a Lego structure there, it appears that the celebrated artists of Paris decided to dot the city randomly with their artefacts. Such is the beauty of Paris that when we were least expecting to encounter something magnificent, we would run into an ornate fountain or a tasteful sculpture or a charming boulevard. But as they say there is always a method to madness, I am sure there is some logic to this as well.

The  Champs de Elysees was lined with trees of the exact same height and flattened tops. This gave us an insight on how aesthetically motivated Parisians are. I must admit that one of the most difficult things that I have had to do in years was to turn a blind eye to the attractive designer stores that beckoned to me from all around Champs de Elysees.

The Arc de Triomphe was our finishing line and we suddenly realised how exhausted we were from all the walking. Our worn out brains and famished guts refused to cooperate any longer. How we argued on and on about where to eat and what to eat! Finally we decided to eat pizza as it is difficult to go wrong with something as basic as Pizza Margherita.

A wise lady once said : “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” I couldn’t agree with her more right then because as soon as we obliged our bodies with food, things started looking up. We were able to make up our minds about how to get to the Eiffel tower and about our plan for the following day.  After much ado we located the George V metro station and boarded a train to the Trocadero station. As we surfaced from the underground metro station probably resembling a pair of moles resurfacing  after months of hibernation, something told me that we were a very close to the Eiffel.

Just as we turned a corner, 500 meters from the station, we found ourselves standing on a raised platform right in front of the Eiffel. What a wonderful feeling that was! Scenes from movies like An Evening in Paris,  Everyone Says I Love You and several books including Is Paris Burning? swam in front of my eyes as I stood ogling at this metallic wonder. It would not be an exaggeration if I say that in that moment standing in front of the Eiffel Tower set against a pinkish grey sky, I realised why it is called the most romantic place on earth.  I was happy that my very first glimpse of this marvellous structure was with my loved one.

A cup of hot coffee added to the warmth that had begun to spread itself within me after the sighting. It did not matter any more that we had to stand in a long line for tickets to enter and go up or that it would take ages for us to cover both the floors or that we would be jostled and shoved around by the crowd. We were  happy and no amount of unpleasantness could have jolted us out of our warm and fuzzy cocoon.

People have often warned me about the occupational hazards of being in a relationship. They tell me that the journey is not as rosy as the idea of the journey and that the everyday monotony negates all the hype created by dreamers about love, affection and ‘happily ever after.’ I, on the contrary feel that if the journey entails moments and milestones which make one realize how lucky we are to have someone to share even the tiniest of pleasures with, then it is worth all the routine struggles involved.

We chatted all the way up the Eiffel. On the first floor we found souvenir shops, a coffee shop with a restaurant and above all a breathtaking view. The entire city of Paris in all it’s shining glory spread itself in front of us. The bridges, the monuments and the boulevards were all lit up under the dusky grey sky. No wonder so many enamoured men choose to propose here as something certainly goes mushy and gooey inside a woman’s brain up on the Eiffel and as a result of which, she is more  susceptible to accepting and believing the raptures of her beau.

It is funny how otherwise sensible and logical women are so affected and moved by certain locations. Needless to say, we saw many many enraptured couples exchanging vows of endless love. The second floor offered more or less the same view as is offered by a window seat in a plane and so we decided to begin our descent without spending too much time there. By the time we landed on mother earth, it was already midnight and we witnessed the Eiffel all lit up and sparkling in the darkness.

Dragging our weary bones back to the hotel was a painful task. However, we succeeded in reaching our room, only to be awakened the next day at seven  by a rather shrill alarm clock. Having learnt a lesson from the previous day, we had decided to indulge in a hearty breakfast. Cambronne offered an array of Parisian cafes to choose from and we picked a cheerful street side one aptly called the Royal Cambronne cafe. Our breakfast was scrambled eggs with tomatoes, cheese and mushrooms, flaky buttery croissants, slices of rye bread, freshly squeezed orange juice and frothy cappuccinos. We spent a good one hour relishing our breakfast and polishing off even the crumbs.

We were off to a brilliant start on day two with oodles of energy and enthusiasm. The Louvre was to be our first destination. Having done our homework on the Louvre, we knew exactly which thematic trail we wanted to see and we also had flash cards on each of the artefacts that we would encounter on this trail. Our flash cards gave us brief descriptions, history and interesting points to note about the 10 major pieces that we were planning on concentrating upon.The museum is divided into three major wings: The Sully Wing, The Richlieu Wing and The Denon Wing. There are eight curatorial departments distributed amongst these wings. Our chosen trail took us first to the most renowned painting of the Louvre – the Mona Lisa which is located in the Medieval Louvre department of the Sully Wing.

As we approached the masterpiece, our flash card informed us that the painting was that of a certain Monna Lisa Gherardini del Giocondo, wife of a wealthy merchant in Florence. As we read on, we were amazed to know that the painting earned it’s worldwide fame only in the 20th century and that too on account of the adventures (theft, stoning, travels to US, Tokyo, Moscow etc.) it had chanced upon rather than the brilliance of the artwork. As expected, there was a crowd of tourists circling the exhibit. Here I used my tiny frame to my advantage and wiggled through the pack of people to take a close up shot of Mrs del Giocondo.

I was to be very very careful, my companion warned, I had only a few minutes to take a perfectly symmetric picture before being elbowed out by the swarming groups of tourists. Armed with these pearls of wisdom I zig zagged my way right to the front. I do not know if I lived upto his expectations, but I managed to click three pictures of the celebrated lady before I had to relinquish my prime spot to a rather annoyed looking Chinese man with a large SLR camera.

Swerving around, we caught a rare moment with the next artefact on our trail :‘The Wedding Feast of Cana. I call it a rare moment as for a minute somehow, there were only us and the painting and no one else and then just as suddenly the swarm of tourists descended upon it and our moment passed. This painting which once upon a time adorned the walls of a monastery in Venice, depicts the biblical episode of Christ’s first miracle at a poor man’s wedding. However, the painter, Paolo Caliari also known as Veronese, has swapped the era with his own and hence the painting showcases a rather opulent wedding with guests dressed in brilliant outfits and the table laden with copious amounts of food instead of slim pickings.

Despite the affluence of the parties depicted, there seems to be a shortage of wine and here’s where Christ steps in and miraculously turns water into wine. The minutest of details have been taken care of and one wonders how long the painter might have taken to paint such an enormous canvas with such attention to detail.

Another massive canvas awaited us in Room 74 of the French Painting section- The Coronation of the Emperor Napoleon I and the Crowning of the Empress Joséphine in Notre-Dame Cathedral on December 2, 1804 by Jacques Louise David. This painting competed with the previous one tooth and nail when it came to attention paid to minute details. Each one of the 150 portraits of spectators in this painting was unique. Each expression, each gesture, each posture meant something. For example: the portrait of Pope Pius the seventh who is shown presiding over the coronation of Josephine reflects the lack of conviction that was felt by the subject. The portrait of Talleyrand also is shown casting an ironic eye on the ostentatious display.

The three previous paintings had set high expectations for the next piece that we were about to witness and quite frankly it lived up to it as the story behind the mutilated sculpture called the Victory of Samothrace was pretty fascinating. The statue is that of ‘Victory’ and she is shown alighting on the prow of a ship to which it brings divine favour. It is said that this sculpture stood on the island of Samothrace in Greece and could be seen from quite a distance by ships approaching the island. The massive sculpture looks eerie thanks to the defacement that it has suffered over centuries.

The next painting, The Oath of the Horatii by David-describes an episode from Roman history where three Horatii, Rome’s chosen champion warriors, take an oath of loyalty before their father while the women of the house observe despondently.

The Raft of the Medusa by Thedore Gericault -a painting depicting the tragedy of the frigate Medusa which sank in 1816 because of the incompetence of its captain  and also features in clear detail gory images of cannibalism, slaughter along with various other psychological states of mind amongst the survivors who are shown afloat on the wooden remnants of the ship, were all thought provoking.

A very French painting caught our eye next as we encountered the Liberty Leading the People by Eugène Delacroix next. It was a bold depiction of a scene post the three day riots known as the Les Trois Glorieuses which led to the downfall of Charles X and the crowning of Loius Philip even though the people of Paris tried to establish the Republic. A dirty, half naked female figure represents the Republic and the painter has ascertained by painting representatives from all classes the fact that political awareness in all layers of society was on an all time high during this period.

The Slave imprisoned in the marble by Michelangelo and the beautiful albeit armless Venus de Milo depicting timeless, divine beauty were the final cherries on the marvellous sundae of the 10 master pieces of the Louvre. Having completed our main agenda in little over two hours, we wandered through the other galleries catching some Egyptian pieces including a terrifying original female mummy and an enormous Sphinx. The original papyrus displays and the ethnic jewellery worn by the ancient Egyptians also caught our attention. At last after feeding on loads of unadulterated art for four complete hours, we decided that  now it was time to enjoy some real food. The Louvre food court offered us the goodness of a fruit cup and the  sinful calories from a double chocolate brownie.

Our cultural sojourn was not over just as yet. We were now headed to the famous Notre Dame cathedral. Unfortunately as we reached the ancient monument, we were informed that there was some kind of a protest being held because of which it was closed for the day. We then decided to visit the Saint Chapelle which is famous for it’s stained glass interiors. Inside the chapel we were subjected to pin drop silence thankfully broken by a naughty little girl with a head full of curls, youngest amongst three siblings, noisily playing the clown in front of her mortified parents much to the amusement of the other onlookers.

Next on our ‘to-do’ list was a trip to the Latin Quarters, a locality surrounding the University of Sorbonne. Interestingly, this area was christened Latin Quarters because of the Latin speaking scholars who frequented it in ancient times. A little bit of poster-shopping for our future abode spiced up the visit. I could almost imagine how our first home would look bedecked with these tid bits from all over Europe.

I warmed up to the streets of Latin Quarters instantly and we picked out the seediest of all watering holes called ‘The Latin Corner’ to enjoy a cocktail each. For the first time in my life, I was served a Mojito with a sparkly fire cracker dipped in it.

As I sat enjoying the familiar tang of my drink, I couldn’t help appreciating the not so classy yet noteworthy decor of the cafe. The theme was undoubtedly raunchy night club but the clientele was by and large sophisticated and chic. Two Mojitos down, we were ready to yet again gorge. This time around the chosen diner did not live up to our expectations even though we were served big portions of food. The crowded place killed the mood and we quickly finished our meal and headed out. Our last night in Paris was thus spent loitering around the streets of Latin Quarters. But we knew, we would be back again, some day soon.

Preeti Sharma is an MBA from Symbiosis Institute of Management Studies and dabbles with creative writing. As she stepped into the hectic and mundane routine of corporate life, her writing became her  stress buster. Her insatiable wanderlust and need for change prompt her to travel as much as possible and she is at present, travelling across Europe and trying to pen down as many memories as possible.