From the moment my Thalys train from Brussels arrived speedily to La Gare du Nord, in Paris, the experience began instantly.
It took over half an hour to get a cab driver willing to take me to my destination. A group of drivers were arguing over their disinterest to "pick me up" and drive me to La Place de L'Opéra. Just hearing them converse would make one think that I was asking them to drive me to some hell hole on earth! Granted I did arrive on le 14 juillet, also known as French National Day (Bastille), where streets and major arteries were closed down for parades and celebrations.
One brave cabdriver, outside of the ones arguing, walked over to me and offered to take me. Wow! I quickly understood why. He had set up a live feed of the parade on one of his many smart phones. No, I didn't ask any questions! As it turned out, he knew which streets were open and which remained closed.
I thanked him for his bravery, quick thinking and dropped off my luggage, in my closet, also known as my hotel room, complete with a bathroom with no shower curtain or glass. I knew what it was like to be Moses parting the sea after my shower! What a disastrous mess.
So now, I am in Paris again after close to ten years, maybe twelve years. Having walked around what I knew well, namely Place Vendôme, Place de la Concorde, Place de l'Opéra and le Jardin des Tuileries, I was happy to see that many of my favorite eateries and shops were still there. It was comforting to see. My all time favorite Salon de Thé Angelina was still there, on rue de Rivoli. Much like Schwartz's in Montreal, the line ups outside this coffee shop/pastry store are surreal.
Toward late afternoon, I had noticed throngs of people gathered at the majestic Opera House, with busts of the many great composers of times gone by. I made my way to see a busker perform for what seemed like a thousand gathered people, from all walks of life. Tourists or locals, elderly or young, ultra religious or not, rich or poor, drunk or not found themselves standing or sitting side by side, listening to Youri from Capri, Italy sing originals as well as covers from Adele to Freddie Mercury.
I found myself a spot on the steps of the Opera House and basked in his rendition of songs. I listened to what brought this man to leave his "Mama and pasta" and travel the world to find himself. He connected with the crowd through his usage of multiple languages, his tales and his music, which explained how all these differences stood side by side.
A great first day in Paris!
