I left my heart in Paris
Walking out of the Gare de Lyon, I immediately felt like the country bumpkin in the big city. I certainly wasn’t in Nice anymore. The neutral urbanness of the city–despite its beauty–was a drastic change from the vibrant colors that usually surround me.
My days consisted of walking: walking to find a restaurant that I wanted to try only to discover it was closed, walking in search of a citron pressé that didn’t cost 10 Euros, walking until I could find a Metro stop to orient myself and continue walking. My feet are screaming at me now, but I kept stumbling over hidden courtyards and secret gardens that inspired me to keep searching for more.
I always thought that Nice was the right fit for me–laid-back and open with lots of sunshine and a zest for life. Wandering through the sometimes charming, sometimes gritty streets of Paris made me question that: did I choose Nice because I didn’t think I could handle Paris? Granted, cost of living was a huge factor in my decision, but so was the atmosphere.
Paris equates a level of sophistication that I’ve never been comfortable with, yet there’s a cultural vibrancy that attracts me. I love new exhibits at Centre Pompidou and Hotel de Ville, the fact that art is such a central part of life. The endless possibilities of museums, restaurants, gardens. There’s a insatiability to the city: can you ever really know it? Even lifelong Parisians carry a map.
Coming back to Nice feels comfortable. Nice is like the long-term boyfriend: there’s a routine, an innate understanding of likes and dislikes, a sense of knowing exactly what you’ll get when you wake up the next morning. Yet Paris has that excitement of a brand-new fling: the thrill of a first kiss in a hidden garden, the surreality of drinking wine under the Eiffel Tower, the heart-pounding sense of not knowing what’s going to happen next.
My trip to Paris was everything I could have asked for and more, yet I still feel like I missed out. Is it even possible to conquer the City of Lights, to seduce the City of Romance? I’m not sure. My brief visit reminded me of why I’m in France: to challenge myself, to seek a more exciting life than I was living. Yet I’ve slipped into a routine in Nice, even if that routine is a bit of a dream: reading on the beach, serving drinks, shopping every morning at market.
Paris reminded me of the joy of the unknown, the feeling of accomplishment that can come from successfully finding your way around without a map. Maybe someday Paris will be the city for me, but for now, I’m savoring the memories and embracing its challenge.
