Visiting Paris for the First Time

It started awful. I booked a bus that departed at 2 a.m. and got sick from expired yogurt the day before. By night I felt better, so I bought a morning ticket for 9 a.m. When I arrived at the bus station, I discovered I had bought it for a week later by mistake — so I had to repurchase it.

I was irritated, sick, and honestly just wanted this three-day trip not to turn into a disaster. At first I thought I had failed the assignment :-)

Day 1

Six hours later I stepped out in Paris at Bercy. It was uncomfortable, surprisingly dirty, and so different from what I had imagined.

I walked for an hour, ordered une baguette, got to the hotel, and decided I had better just sleep.

Then in the evening I went out for a stroll. It turned out much better.

I hummed some beloved French tunes from childhood — like Cathédrales from Notre-Dame de Paris — exactly as I approached the church. When the fire hit it a few years ago, I donated “a brick” toward the restoration, and I was glad that my contribution, however small, had helped.

I slowly walked along the Seine, went to the Louvre, listened to street musicians, and my heart slowly melted. It was not that bad after all.

Day 2

I started with the classic tourist move — breakfast in front of the Eiffel Tower. I needed something simple and light: baguette, butter, and confiture. With some water.

Alright, it was marvelous! Some bees kept me busy; other tourists tried to take photos — a happy morning.

Then I walked to the Arc de Triomphe, went along the Champs-Élysées, and read a book for a while in a park.

I also like visiting cemeteries. There is something about how people honor the memory of the dead.

I bought some flowers for Symon Petliura — head of the Ukrainian government in 1917, killed by Russian agents in Paris in 1926.

Then I decided that tourist Paris was over and there was only time left to rest. I went to a park, watched some pétanque games, watched a few series, and the day was over when all the batteries — phone, iPad, social and physical — were dead.

Day 3

I went straight to the park on Île de Reuilly — got some snacks, looked at ducks, people riding boats and running — and reading.

I was happy. Paris was not as bad as I had feared when I first arrived on Sunday, and I was a little sad because it was so different from what I had imagined my whole life. We had so many French authors in our home library — I grew up thinking Paris was the most beautiful place on Earth.

I figured it is a wonderful place, but kind of real. There is no magic, just real people living in real buildings that sometimes look beautiful and sometimes don’t.