16 October, 2007 | Leave a Comment
“Paris is a bitch, but I love her anyway.”
An Englishwoman who once lived in Paris shared this little saying with me the other day. We were chatting about how Paris is magical and wondrous, yet sometimes living there can be a complete nightmare. In her view, it’s a nightmare “at least 50 percent of the time.” But when you experience the fabulous parts of Paris, it’s like a dream. In Paris, all of your senses are aroused and you can walk the streets and feel as if your feet have never touched the ground. There’s no place like it in the world.
This feeling is so intoxicating that many foreigner visitors vow to move there permanently. This is an understandable but nevertheless misguided notion for the vast majority of Paris lovers. The spell that Paris casts is best experienced in small, dream-like doses. That is its power. Strolls along the Seine, reading in the gardens, the abundance of art and architecture, decadent treats in cozy cafés — this is the postcard Paris that bewitches so many of us, that draws us back again and again. But one cannot live in a postcard, so to settle in Paris over the long haul means experiencing a different side of it, one that is sometimes difficult for dreamers and romantics to handle. The real world will eventually intrude.
Now that I’m just a visitor again, I can experience the Paris of my dreams. I had a wonderful time during my three days there last week. I was completely transported to another world. I hadn’t been particularly stressed or anything in London, so I didn’t anticipate how nice it would be to escape my daily routine for a few days. For quite some time now I’ve been wrapped up in work and school and have not taken any long walks, have not taken any photos or seen any sunsets. It was nice to feel that part of myself awakened again, to live life at a level that’s slightly heightened, to feel more alive. It was invigorating and I’m still on a high from it.
During my trip I made peace with what happened to me there in my own way. I must admit it was quite difficult to walk the streets of my old neighborhood — everything came rushing back. So I decided to skip the trip down memory lane and just act like a tourist. That was the right idea. I didn’t even contact any friends as I said I’d do. Maybe next time, but on this trip I wanted to be alone.
It became clearer to me why living there was often so difficult. I was feeling depressed because of other things going on in my life, yet when I walked out the door I was faced with such beauty, such magnificence. It was too difficult to reconcile my surroundings with how I felt inside. It put me on a roller coaster of emotion. Living there was so intense on every level and while I like intensity, it can be exhausting. I was aware of this dynamic before I even moved away, but now as a tourist again — one with the benefit of having lived there before — I could stand back and really see how Paris works her seductive charms. As I write this now, I am thinking fondly about walking through Paris and I have this desire to be back there again. But thinking about it a little more, what I really desire is the feeling I get when I’m there.
Living in Paris, I came into my own. I began to appreciate life more — what I could see, touch and feel became very important to me. I began to appreciate the sensual like never before. The simple pleasures of taking long walks, of seeking out beauty just for the pleasure of it, of watching the sunset instead of watching television — that was a fabulous way to live. It’s easier to live that way in Paris. It’s a beautiful, sparkling-clean city. There are wide sidewalks and gardens meant for strolling and relaxing. The pace is slower. People don’t drink out of paper Starbucks cups while walking down the street — they sit in cafés with friends or a book. Just try to find take-away coffee or tea. It’s not easy to do — and that’s says a lot. The trick is to take this Paris way of life home with you when you leave. It’s not easy, but it’s important to try.
While I’ve discussed in gruesome detail the couple of French people who treated me in a monstrous fashion and made my life hell (and that’s no exaggeration), I also reflected on this trip about the people I met who treated me like a sister, like a daughter, even though they didn’t know me very well. There were people in Paris who came to my rescue, who took care of me when I needed it, who treated me in a way I’m not sure I would have treated someone I barely knew if the situation had been reversed. I will never be able to repay those people for their kindness to me. It’s a kindness I’ve rarely experienced before. That’s Paris, just as much as the crooked landlords.
Most people who know something about my time in Paris tend to think of it as a miserable experience. Part of my stay there was completely awful, but it was, in equal parts, a magical time. This isn’t a revision of history — I wrote about all of this on my blog as it was happening and recorded everything in photographs as well. My trip last week allowed me to reclaim what was marvelous and life-affirming about that time. It reminded me of all that was wonderful.
[My next post will be a long travelogue with photos!]
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Anita Says:
October 17th, 2007 at 1:09 amThis is the Paris that Strether has fallen in love with. Unfortunately for him, however, I think his trip is going to come to no good end. I’ll keep reading and let you know. The Ambassadors.
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Daniela Says:
October 17th, 2007 at 6:03 pmWhen I was in Portugal I thought a lot about this. How in the continent your senses are constantly aroused. How even big cities can be real romantic. London isn’t that romantic, and it feels more exposed to the elements than to life’s sensual touch. London is more city for the intellect, for consumerism. Pleasures here either cost a lot compared to other places or are subject to the weather’s will. I guess I have a similar relationship to London that you have to Paris. But I came back as a dweller again - guess I have some loose ends to sort out here.
And it is good to see that you’ve made peace with Paris again. That helps to move on. -
kit Says:
October 17th, 2007 at 8:08 pmim glad you had as good time. can you recocmend a cheap but good location of a hotel as we are planning on going in 2 weeks and have nowhere to stay yet!
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Anita: Don’t let me know the end!
Daniela: That’s an interesting perspective. London is probably much more like an American city than a Continental one, which is probably why I feel more at home here. I’ve never been to Portugal, but I’ve had similar feelings in Italian cities too. I’ve felt transported to another world, refreshed and revitalized like never before. It’s so lovely to have all of your senses engaged like that. Like in America, I think people in Britain often view pleasure as decadent — we’re all too busy to enjoy life! Thanks for your thoughtful comment, as always.
Kit: You could do a web search for Prelude Gare du Nord Hotel. I’ve stayed there before. It’s a nice budget hotel, close to the train station and Montmartre. There is also the Absolute Hotel, which is like a hostel/budget hotel.

