dix ans après

dancing around paris solo again

This trip was a gift to myself. My college self. This trip was for an anniversary. To visit an old love. A solo trip to celebrate an anniversary with Paris. Just me and this beautiful city. Ten years after the first trip where I fell in love with this dazzling yet complicated city.

This trip was a reorientation. A test for myself, to see if I could still navigate the streets without thinking. To see what’s changed, take note of its evolution over the decade. For the most part, the muscle memory still relieved me of being glued to Google Maps. And even more than before, the change in the city was present, felt.

It was a couple months after the Olympics. And the tail end of Fashion Week. Perhaps because of that, it felt more international. There was more English spoken, and a little less judgment for broken French. More international influence in the restaurant culture. More choices, certainly, and more attention to the global cuisines there. In a way, in its evolution, it felt a little less French.

Perhaps with the omnipotence of Tiktok and internet culture has finally gotten to Paris. Creators collapsing culture, making every big city feel a little more similar. Virality “ruining” a place that used to pride itself in classic consistency. Not chasing trends, or standing in lines. A strong sense of local identity and lifestyle. It’s mellowed out, become a little more welcoming over the years. Probably a good thing, overall, but somehow it feels a little less Parisian in a way.

This trip was about retracing old steps and deliberately taking new ones. Rediscovering the city through the eyes of an adult.

It was a short trip. Just three and a half days. In autumn, the days were becoming shorter, and the cool crisp air was refreshing. There was so much to see, do, eat, shop. Overstimulation, with forces pulling me to the familiar, but the allure of the new winning me over. But once I was in the streets, there was a sudden sense of anchor, innate direction guiding my way, and the steps were easy to rack up.

This time, I stayed in the 12e near Gare de Lyon. I’ve always been a Right Bank girl, and more and more feel drawn to the 10e, 11e and 12e arrondissements. I’d never really spent time in the 12e, and the view of Gare de Lyon felt fresh. Glimpses of familiar monuments in morning glow.

I fell back into my tendency for detours. Starting in the Marais and then bouncing around the central arrondissements. My time was split a little more evenly on either side of the Seine this time around, deliberately avoiding the western half of the city to stay a safe distance from Fashion Week happenings.

The familiar views of Pont Alexandre III, and the peek of the glass roof of Grand Palais, and of course the elegance of Tour Eiffel standing tall and glittering so timelessly.

It was still early enough in the fall for the gardens to be blooming. And there’s nothing I love more than a Parisian park.

I was tempted to go back to my favorites: Tuileries, Luxembourg, or taking my favorite morning walk from Trocadero to the Louvre. But instead, I opted for the new, the places I hadn’t been before. Jardin des Plantes, so peaceful with colorful flowers artfully arranged in the garden. And Parc Monceau in golden hour. Filled with locals soaking up the sun through the dappled light under the trees.

And of course, no trip to Paris would be complete without a healthy dose of art. Of the three main museums, I’ve always loved the Louvre and Pompidou more. Impressionism is overrated. Not that it’s bad, just that it is far too popular in comparison to other art periods. And while I love older periods of art, I do think contemporary art museums are the most fun. Plus it’s hard to deny the views from the top of the Pompidou. But I thought it was time to branch out from old tendencies and get a good look at Orsay for once. After all, if anything, the old station building itself is beautiful.

It’s bigger than I remembered. The clocks are admittedly photogenic. And while it’s nothing compared to the views from the Pompidou, there were some pretty cute glimpses of the city from here.

And of course there was the shopping. Oh the shopping. To be able to experience this shopping capital with disposable income is truly life changing. So much unlocked from my former student budget experience.

So much of this trip was just for the shopping. The joys of shopping while abroad. The tax refunds and archive stores. The endless little shops and boutiques that are all, always, worth popping into. Taking a toll on my itinerary, and my wallet.

There’s something so surreal about going back to the glamorous department stores of Paris, and actually being able to shop. I’d never been to the roof of Galeries Lafayette. It was stunning, particularly because I got a new view of my favorite building in the city.

And then of course, pilgrimage back to the Left Bank for La Grande Epicerie to load up on pantry goods that I definitely don’t need, and a quick stop by Le Bon Marché, another first, for a much less chaotic designer shopping experience than the Right Bank.

Too little time to hit the big puces this trip, but managed to squeeze in a visit to the puces d’Aligre. One day, I’ll be back to do some real vintage home shopping here.

So many bakeries, so little time. The cafe culture has gotten better over the years too. Montorgueil still bustling. And of course, made an obligatory detour to take a peek at Place des Victoires and grab a bite at the Little Tokyo of Paris, that seems to have grown in popularity and footprint over the past decade.

There will always be Paris. A place that just exudes “pretty” in a timeless way. That stays true, persists over time, as a beacon for art, culture, fashion, gourmand. A basic choice, perhaps, but still too effortless cool. A culture that appreciates the little moments. Walking along the Seine. Sitting out in a garden to soak up the sun. Sitting down for a coffee, an appreciation for sur place.

I’ll be back soon, sur place, toujours.

dix ans après

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