Day 1 In Paris

There are days when you wake up and think: "How fortunate I am. I am waking up in Paris but I can't yet believe it!"
I am sure not everyone feels this way but my whole life I grew up reading stories, looking at beautiful picture books and watching some of my favorite Hollywood movies - all which happened in one place: Paris! And here I am...the last place I expected to be.

Many, many months ago when I started planning this trip I had totally crossed off Paris. It wasn't even an idea, not even an option. I knew no one in this huge city, had heard loads of stories of how rude and cross Parisians can be and after giving a quick look on the lodging prices - well any enthusiasm I might have had for Paris totally vanished.

But as I say - the universe has its peculiar way - call it law of Murphy, Law of Attraction, Of Positive Thinking (or in my case, negative thinking!); whatever! All I know is that my mother gets a French Portuguese student, I get her a place to stay, pick her up in the airport and we become great friends. In one of our "blab days" I mention to her my crazy Euro trip and add that I am not going there. Her eyes open up in shock and surprise: "How are you not going to Paris?!!! That is my city and it is the MOST beautiful city in the world! You HAVE to go to Paris!"
Somehow after many days spent together and friendship built, my friend Fanny somehow convinced me that Paris was a must on my travel list.
Even then I still wasn't totally convinced but mentioned to my friend Richi (American but lives in Munich) that I was thinking about going to Paris and was buying my ticket for the 25th of November. To my huge surprise his answer back is "Can't you go on the 21st? I get five days off from work and if you buy your ticket earlier then I would join you in Paris!"

That was all I needed to make my final decision. I found a good ticket to Paris on the 20th at night and before I knew it here I was waking up to beautiful Paris.
At this time I still hadn't fallen in love with this city which I now hold so dear to my heart - but even in my first morning I could smell good times in the air.

Tom, always the gentleman; warmed up some croissants, made some fresh hot coffee and showed me how to get to the train station. This morning Richi was arriving from Munich and from there we would meet at the subway station near Tom's place, from there we would go to another subway stop where I would meet the owner of the flat we would be renting for three nights.
- Look at this. I just received a message from your friend, Richi.
I looked at the message and read aloud: "Hello Christy. I just arrived. See you soon.  Richi"
In a hurry to get out the door I put my scarf, gloves, hat, neck warmer and hat while at the same time Tom helped me strap on my huge pink backpack and as an extra stuffed a last croissant covered with Speculoos into my mouth.
- Bye Tom! See you in a few days! Was all I managed to say with my mouth full.
To my great luck Tom agreed to stay with both my huge and small red bags as after spending the four days in the flat I would be coming back to his place and spending a few more days with him at his place. Being so I was taking a small amount of baggage for these next few days.

After less than a fifteen minute walk I found myself in front of Hoche subway station. I entered and scanned the place for Richi but nothing. I went to the information desk and asked the lady how many exits/entrances there were and she pointed out there were three: the one I was at, one 100 meters in front and another right across the street. And so I walked to the other two entrances. Nothing once again. I went back to the lady and told her maybe he had stayed in the subway platform so she let me inside to take a look. Not a trace of Richi. I went back to each subway entrance once again. Richi was nowhere to be seen.
All this took about an hour or so and by then everyone in the streets - Negros and Middle Eastern people - were looking at the lost girl carrying her pink backpack on her shoulders with the most frustrated look on her face. Walking through those dirty streets with street sellers, Arabic being shouted out on the street, Muslim women walking with their eyes looking at the floor and muscular Negro men looking and smiling towards me with their perfectly white teeth made feel like as if I were in another world.
I was about to walk back to Tom's place when I decided before to enter a small street to get away from the onlookers weird looks  Turning in the street there is a couple walking in my direction speaking...PORTUGUESE!!! I instantly jump in front of them and ask: "Oi, Vocês são do Brasil?" ("Hello are you from Brazil?"). They smiled and nodded their heads and we soon started talking. I explained to them my dilemma when the husband picked out his cellphone and told me to give Tom a call as who knows, maybe something had happened to Richi and the only number I had given him was Tom's. Ten seconds on the phone with Tom and he tells me there is an incoming phone call and puts me on hold. A minute later he tells me that was Richi who had just called saying he had arrived in Hoche station. I thank the Brazilian couple over and over again and they just laugh saying they know what it's like to be in my situation: feeling totally lost! We said our goodbyes and as I walked back towards Hoche subway station I couldn't help but think how lucky I once again had been; this couple told me they had lived for five years in Paris yet today was their last here as tomorrow they were getting on the plane back to Brazil. Woah!

In front of Hoche station there was Richi standing with his sparse amount of baggage and looking the exact same as when I met him for the first time in January - almost a year ago! We hugged and smiled glad to see each other after a long time and he then explained to me why the whole mess-up and the reason for me not finding him at Hoche station when I arrived an hour ago: "The message I sent Tom saying I had arrived was the one I sent as soon as I had arrived in Charles de Gaulle Airport; yet you misunderstood my message thinking I had actually arrived here at the subway station and that is why you had to wait for so long until I got here."

From there we tried to find our way around Paris-at-first-complicated subway station (though once you figure out how it works it's quick and easy peasy!) until we arrived at Gambetta station. Outside the station we met Agathe. She is the epitome of what I expected in any Parisian woman: cute, pretty, petite and very stylish without calling too much attention. She approached us asking "Hello. Are you Christy?" Once affirming I was so she led us to her flat in the sixth floor in a quaint apartment building. Inside she was very kind and helpful giving us all the information we needed to have a comfortable stay. Her friendly smile and short bangs made her look all the more girly to me. But despite her innocent look and pleasant way of being she all of a sudden took me by surprise when our conversation came to a her telling us a three month trip she did together with a friend in Mongolia which included trekking, hunting a wolf, sheep and some other strange creatures; spending a few days in a tent with a Mongolian family of more than 60 members and many other crazy and almost unbelievable adventures - though once going through the pictures of her trip there was the proof of how this sweet Parisian was braver than what I would have ever expected had I seen her walking in the street. After some conversation we said our goodbyes and she left.
As soon as we heard her walk down the hallway we both opened our mouths wide open. Compared to the flat's in Paris this was HUGE! A big bathroom with a bathtub and full body mirror, a cozy kitchen with everything we would be needing to make our own home cooked meals, a veranda with a view to the street outside and a large main room which included a double bed, a sofa which would open up into another bed, large flat screen TV (which we never even used once, hah!) and a large array of books, DVDs and tourist guide books from places all over the world - including Mongolia, of course! A very girly flat and one that totally matched with my daydreams of an ideal Parisian apartment. And all of this for not a cent more than 35 euros per night!!! It's so good to have friends!

Not long after, Richi's two Brazilian friends, Fred and Vitor arrived at the apartment. They had met each other in Greece and since they both lived in Paris Richi had gotten in touch with them so they could show us around today.
Vitor, an at first quiet and conservative Engineer student who speaks fluent French and Fred, a talkative and friendly person who works as a professor in the same university Vitor studied in. These two guys made us have an amazing time - nothing like having a local (or in this case an "almost local") who speaks the native language show you around the place.
At first we walked to the "Marche Franprix" (local chain of grocery stores) where we did some shopping for the next day or two. Here you can find from fresh mushrooms to bags of selected green salad leaves, bright red cherry tomatoes, tomatoes with their stalks still on, juicy clementines and a huge assortment of wine and cheeses for unimaginable prices - cheap, cheap, cheap! Now meat on the other hand was another story...
Fred told us that he worked as a chef in a fine restaurant in London for a year and so he would be our chef today as well. In less than half an hour he served us the best pasta meal I ate during my whole time in Paris. Adding many glasses of wine and animated talk we were ready to get out and see the city.

The route for that afternoon and evening was to be the "Basilique du Sacré Coeur" followed after by "The Moulin Rouge". We got off Blanche Subway station and the boys all needed to go pee. I rolled my eyes but seconds later I was opening them wide in surprise as Vitor showed me the "public bathrooms in France": a medium-sized "room" in the middle of the large sidewalk is the bathroom. People stand in line and as soon as someone gets out from the bathroom the doors are closed and the whole bathroom is automatically washed. There is even enough room for someone on a wheelchair to use the bathroom. As soon as the bathroom is washed the doors open once again and the next person in line goes in for his or her turn. Vitor then told me how once his friend - who had no idea that the bathroom would wash itself clean - walked straight inside as soon as the person who was in walked out. Somehow the sensors didn't capture him entering and he was washed from top to bottom and left the bathroom soaking. Poor guy!
After my amazement with the "high-tech bathrooms" we started walking towards the "Sacré Couer".  As we walked towards there Fred explained to us its history:
- During the war with the Prussians the French promised God they would build the biggest church ever as a sign of thanks if they won the war. Despite loosing the Franco-Prussian war in 1870 Paris remained unscathed from the war and so the Sacré Couer was built as an 'Act of National Repentance'.
And there it was. Tall and imposing. Bleach white with its green dome and those long stairs with hoards of people sitting on them. We took the cable car until the top and then entered the basilica. Unfortunately it's forbidden to take pictures inside but everything in it is impressive, majestic and full of grandeur. Gold, statues, and a roof that seems like it will reach the sky. As we walked outside there was a street band playing some music on the steps making the atmosphere seem unreal as everyone smiled, sang, and bubbled over with good vibes.

We then walked through some small little streets lined with all kinds of souvenirs from key-chains to t-shirts, mugs and magnets. To ward off a bit of the cold we entered a cute coffee shop called "La Virgule" where we warmed ourselves with some hot chocolate and our first impressions of Paris.
Fred and Victor (who turned out to be very lively and fun once he got comfortable with you) explained to us many things they had noticed as Brazilians living for longer than a year in Paris. From the language to the food, different customs, traditions and ways of doing things (I will later write a blog post expanding just on this one topic). Nonetheless both adapted really well having a large circle of friends, speaking the language and getting by the city streets like any local would do.

Once warmed up we walked towards the Moulin Rouge as the evening set in. Being the only girl in a group of three single guys it was quite the laugh as we stopped and entered many sex shops which are on the same street as the Moulin Rouge. The guys made their dirty jokes, blunt remarks while I just couldn't help but notice how large and big the "sexy panties" were. After entering at least three sex shops I didn't find g-strings in a single one of them. Shock!!! I guess the French really do love their "culottes".

And at last we arrived at the Moulin Rouge! I didn't get to enter it but in front of it, across the street is a large air vent where people stand on top and have their picture taken. I don't know if it is a subway air vent or if it was put there just for fun but as soon as we arrived there were two girls (which we dubbed "The Russian Girls") wearing nothing more other than a skimpy short summer dress while the rest of us around were covered from head to toe. This proved to call a LOT of attention but the fun soon turned into embarrassment as the air coming out of the air vent proved to be stronger lifting one of the girl's dress up into the air showing her beige granny panny underwear. Lots of laughs rippled out in the air while the girl struggled to hold it down and then finally jumped off from the air vent.
A little history on the Moulin Rouge: It is known as the birthplace of the modern form of the can-can dance. At first seductive courtesans operated from this time but with time it evolved into a form of entertainment which led to the introduction of cabarets across Europe. Much to my disappointment "Moulin Rouge" means "Red Windmill" and not something exotic or erotic as I imagined since watching the famous movie.

Pictures taken, stuffy subway ride back to the apartment, quick dinner with more wine and off we were to enjoy the night!

Following Agathe's advice earlier on today we went to a bar/club called "La Bellevilloise" which was having some kind of club party with a live local band. In our heads we arrived there "early" (10:30 pm) but the guard informed us the band had started at about 8 pm and would end not later than midnight so we were no longer allowed to enter but were free to stay at the bar which was part of the club as well.
Right next to me, also wanting to enter and watch the live band was a pretty Chinese girl who casually started talking to me, saying she was also too late for the band. We started a casual conversation and I then asked her: "Would you like to join us for a drink at the bar?" Sure she was going to politely decline I couldn't help but give a shocked smile as she said: "Yes! I sure would!"
And that was the beginning of my friendship with Jamie, the 25 year old Chinese girl who was living in Paris for about two years. Despite having the Chinese looks there was nothing Chinese about her. She was extremely friendly and outgoing, spoke fluent French and great English and after the first drink was already on the dance floor salsa dancing with Fred (being that they were the only ones on the dance floor, salsa dancing to music that was anything BUT salsa!). All the images of the shy, conservative, only-daughter Chinese girl flashed through my mind and yet not corresponded with what I was seeing right in front of me. But then again, Paris shocked me so many times in one day that I was starting to get used to these surprises.
We didn't enter any deep or long conversations as the drink kept us laughing, giggling and cracking up with the silliest things possible.
Jamie was thrilled to hear that me, Fred and Vitor were all Brazilians and told me how much she enjoyed hanging out with Brazilians.
-"My friends here in Paris are a whole lot more stuck up, boring and care too much what others think of them. Like for example, I love wearing red lipstick and I think it looks great on me" Jamie slurred on her story, "but when I wear red lipstick my friends tell me '-You bitchhhhhhh!'
- Wow! But that is stupid. If you want to wear red lipstick you should wear it no matter what your friends have to say.
I swear I don't know how this came to happen but all of a sudden Jamie opens her bag and retrieves a small makeup bag filled with lipsticks of all colors and offers me one of them. I refuse not really caring about vanity at the moment and jokingly tell her to put some on Richi. Using her powers of persuasion before I know it all three boys lips are covered with bright red, pink and orange lipstick and I am laughing so hard that I am afraid I will fall off my chair.
Me and Richi walking back to the apartment; Fred, Vitor and Jamie to the RER station to catch the bus back home and not one of us feeling the bitter cold wind fueled by the alcohol in our blood and good vibes in the air.