Starry Tower (at night)

Fittingly it was on a date that I first saw the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night. He pointed it out and for me it was a discovery. I never knew it did that. I was in awe of the light dancing on the monument. A monument that I'd never really liked. 

Paused; looking up at the light show, he clumsily attempted to hold my hand. I moved it out of reach, told him he reminded me of my brother and smiled sweetly. I ruined his attempt at romance there on what my memory faintly tells me was a street around Chatelet.   

I'd already visited the city a few times and had at that point just arrived there to spend the next four months living and working in Paris as a Stagiaire. From that night onward I began to like the Eiffel Tower; especially her nightly showings of bright lights and sparkle. That night's date was perhaps the second or third with him but definitely the last. I lost one friend but gained another.  
   

Marais – the Falafel and the Musée

With an appreciation for the Marais, I always find a reason to be in its vicinity. No longer living in Paris; I’m in that not-a-resident/not-a-tourist limbo. I know what there is to see; I’ve probably seen (or avoided) it, and I try my best to frequent the places I like on every trip. This doesn’t mean that I’ve seen everything in my favourite places and spaces though. So a trip to Paris for me is likely one of a few that year and mostly means that I’ll want to be somewhere in particular as opposed to seeing something in particular.

So on an early August trip I wanted to spend some time in the Marais. For dinner with a couple of friends I suggested L’As du Falafel; a place I’d heard about in the Jewish quarter. Although I’d heard it was affordable and popular, the experience there was refreshing if a bit surprising. It was packed and we were lucky to get a table. The summer ambiance added to the convivial atmosphere; when you feel you’ve made innumerable friends from a shared moment in time that you’ll never see again.

Completely staffed by handsome Jewish men, L’As du Falafel was a delightful first as restaurant experiences go. The service was extremely practical, no dessert in order to deliver tasty falafel posthaste and ensure that as many patrons as possible got their time at table. Quirky in its way and amazingly good falafel.      

Later on in the evening, we found ourselves walking back through the dimly lit Parisian streets. At this time in Paris, I always have the odd feeling of being let loose in the city of my dreams. And just like in a weird dream, I saw the ethereal figure of stone. “I think it’s the Musée Carnavalet”, I said out loud. In that light, on a stumbled upon path I wasn’t sure...

I’m still not sure, which gives me a great reason to go back and continue discovering one of my favourite neighbourhoods. 

Balcon

Balcon where I rest my weary body and drain it some more; the rays of the sun stripping me of energy. Oh sweet lethargy! 

Balcon where I don't smoke lazily but recline dangerously in a thin steel chair. 

Balcon my grown up play pen where I paint my nails; a women's magazine lying on the table beside a glass of wine; some bread; some cheese. A phone to further entertain me or capture these blissfully idle moments of frivolous pleasure. 

Balcon where I look down at the street below and see the dark cement toasted by the summer sun dancing with the shadows of les gens.

Balcon giving out on to a view of the monument circled by cars and mopeds, carrying the bodies of tourists up its stairs and on its head. 

Balcon across from an intimate Paris story framed with French windows.