Paris intrigue

*via craigfinlay

This week I typed this phrase into Google: "best time of year to go to Paris"

I have wanted to go since I was a wee girl.  And I'm not so wee anymore. And gosh darn it, I'm not sure why this year can't be the year it happens.  After all, it is on my long list of new things to try.

So I'm starting, slowly, to research... which hopefully will lead to planning.

A few weeks ago, my husband said, "What's the deal with Paris? Why do women love Paris? Why do YOU love Paris?"

I had a mouthful of lunch in my mouth and I was trying to work on the unfinished puzzle that's been on our dining room table for two whole months.  I wasn't prepared to give him a detailed response, but I promised I would.  And so for my husband, and for anyone else who cares to know... here is why I love Paris.

I spent two years in high school and two years in college studying French (although I desperately need some practice and renewed study).  But which came first? The chicken or the egg?

First of all, I've never been to Paris. Never having been, it can be a fantasy, a symbolic object of unnamed fuzzy hopes and dreams and feelings.  I fully acknowledge that.

So maybe most of what I love is not Paris at all, but all that Paris symbolizes to me. But why choose Paris as this stand-in for my unconscious desires?  Ah...

It's embarrassing to admit, but true. I think Hollywood has quite a lot to do with my love of Paris. 

All these films I've seen put Paris high on a romantic pedestal.  Paris is the scene of love in bloom.  It's a beautiful, manicured (often Hollywood set) Paris, populated by beautiful characters in beautiful clothes.  It is... a fantasy.

But what is it that they portray that's so appealing?

A city with beautiful architecture, history, art museums, boat cruises and romantic walks by the River Seine, streetside cafes that look like places you'd lounge and linger, glamorous shopping, flower markets and flea markets, women elegantly dressed wearing signature perfume and red lipstick, gourmet cheese, and chocolate and wine, and bread.  All these things come to mind when I think of Paris.

And none of these things make me think of work or industry.  They all make me think of leisure, pleasure, exploration, discovery, and luxury. 

I've also been told that French culture is an older, slower one that values beauty, quality, family, relationships, gourmet food, art, style.  This can't help but appeal to me. 

My fantasy trip to Paris is not one that is jam-packed with site-seeing.  It's staying in a charming little apartment, sleeping in, in the morning.  Having a cup of coffee (and a croissant!), while I look out the balcony at my new view.  Then taking a leisurely walk - in absolutely no hurry, exploring the neighborhoods, the shops, stopping whenever I feel like it.  And having lunch at a sidewalk cafe, watching people walk by and drinking it all in.  Then, in the afternoon, an art museum or historical site perhaps, or maybe shopping at a boutique or flea market.  But nothing rushed.  Then a late dinner, somewhere nice, but not a place that will scare me off with it's chicness and unidentifiable food.  This is my fantasy day in Paris.