And then the sun broke through...

I started working on this post in March in Paris for the photoblog I contribute to, but that blog is in a very deep and severe coma, so I'm gonna post this here instead. I love this photo.

toy sail boats near the Louvre

Paris was slated to have a big windstorm because of the storm going across the north, but, luckily it wasn't too bad in the city. There was a lot of rain and wind in the morning, but in the afternoon, the sun broke through as I was walking back to my hotel. I was coming from the Left Bank (rive gauche) and decided to walk through the Tuileries Garden (next to the Louvre). Despite the light rain that was falling and the "breeze" (my umbrella was not happy), there was still a fair number of people out enjoying a walk on a Sunday.

It's days like this that I've really missed since leaving Paris. As I walked under the mini Arc de Triomphe at the entrance near the great Pyramid in the Louvre's courtyard, I heaved a BIG sigh of relief. It felt good to be in a place that felt both familiar and new. I used to walk through here or take the bus all the time. I love the anachronism of Paris, it gives me a little high each time I experience it and it's one of the things I miss the most about living there. Somehow the city's age and history makes it grand and quaint, overwhelming and cozy at the same time; there's always something new among the old. The juxtapositions mean I never get tired of looking around and exploring.

Paris, je t'aime...?

scene from a bus

It's been a while since my last post, but how can I not be inspired to write something when in Paris? I've been in France for just over 12 hours and in Paris for well under (there was some drama at the airport... hence, I didn't get to my hotel until about 9:15).

Way back before I got here (you know, 13 hours ago), I thought I'd be crying with love tears as I walked around Paris, drinking in the ambiance and the warmth that comes with people who aren't stoic and who talk to strangers. One of the first things I noticed when I got on the bus was that there were waaaaaaaay fewer people listening to iPods (and the like) than one sees in Tokyo (including moi... haven't had an urge to listen to the iPod since I got here). People were making noise in real life and listening to the noise that other people were making. It felt less and more isolating at the same time. Because Paris is just such a smaller city than Tokyo is, people/friends/colleagues/schoolmates travel around together much more often than happens in Tokyo. It's not abnormal to have a group of people all going together to the same place via the same route. So, there are people laughing and chatting and arguing all around. Iin a way, it made me feel like a part of the scene--hey, I'm sitting on that bus, too... or at the next table in the cafe, or on the other end of the park bench. But, on the other hand, it also seems to accentuate how much you (I) am sitting all by your (my) lonesome.

Maybe it's just jet lag... or the pee smell everywhere (was it always this strong?)... but I'm not crying the love tears. I guess this is just how you feel sometimes when you go "home," and I definitely feel like Paris is one of my homes--nothing to get too excited about, but all the same, still a comfort to be here and nice to be around the familiar. Even though I lived here for less time than I've spent in Tokyo, I definitely feel more able to be integrated here... for better or for worse (it's definitely sink or swim here).

view from my room

The good thing is that I'm getting a chance to reconnect with people and with places. I've gone shopping already (Gap was having a jeans sale) and will be looking for shoes that I don't need to buy in the tranny store, and I've already got a recommendation for a place to get my hair cut in Florence. The challenge is definitely still here (as with any "foreign" living experience), but somehow it just seems slightly more (and also less... hi there mixed signals!) manageable here. But when the day starts out with a cute old dog presenting its belly for a good rub and scratch in the quaint little hotel lobby, life can't be all bad.

official greeter at hotel