Bonjour Paris!

Today, I finally achieved every dessert lover’s dream and ate these  pretentiously famous macarons from Pierre Herme. (Although, they are worth every cent of the fabulously expensive price tag)

It is still hard to believe that I’m finally here, walking on pebble-stoned streets and finally seeing the ubiquitous Metro signs and patisserie shops that I had only known before from old French textbooks. Paris, je suis arrivé! The city photographs beautifully. We spent the afternoon wandering around the impossibly chic Saint Germain des Prés neighbourhood. I watched pigeons and tourists gawking at each other on a quaint square and reveled in the Frenchness of it all. If only I had a beret on my head and a baguette in my hand, it would have been picture perfect.

There was an unimpressive cathedral situated in front of where I was sitting, and I nearly walked past it without a second look when I realised, with rush of excitement, that it was the Eglise St. Sulpice immortalised in the Da Vinci Code! This was where Sister Sandrine died! Does anybody know what I’m talking about? It doesn’t even matter actually, for this was one of those revelations that left me satisfied entirely, even without a soul to share the joy. Then, a group of construction workers hollered at me across the street and I replied! In French! It felt so good to speak French again, even a simple “Je voudrais un billet a Paris s’il vous plait” left me giddy when the person correctly understood me.

At dinner, we met a lovely older couple from Scotland. We ended up talking about everything from Braveheart (their disdain and my obsession for the movie) to the Scottish Highlands to Beijing to French food to Israeli cinema. Oh, the joy of striking up a perfect conversation with a pair of strangers. This is why I love travelling. Tomorrow,  the Musee D’Orsay and Monet’s Water Lilies. I can’t wait.