Hi friends. Today I’ll be taking you on a little trip back in time, to when I was 15 years old and was madly in love with Paris and basically everything that had to do with being French. At that time, the bare mention of the Eiffel tower would make me squirm. Haven’t we all had a period like that at some point? Anyhow, I finally decided to satisfy my longing so during 2010 I went to Paris three times in one year (basically every school break) and had the most cliché french movie-like trips you could ever imagine. The first trip together with Iris and Nika was the very best one, so that’s the one I’m sharing today. Here we go!
After watching Amelié about a trillion times, there wasn’t a single doubt in our minds that we wanted to stay somewhere in Montmatre.
As I mentioned, I had two of my favourite gals with me. Iris and Nika.
Hi Iris. We stayed in a hostel in one of the narrow streets of Montmartre, in a room with a pretty view and a little french balcony.
I enjoyed wearing all black, smoking cigarettes and looking like an anguished and difficult french woman (at least that’s what I thought I looked like). Oh well, points for the effort.
We went on little excursions everyday, making our way around Paris and finding our favourite spots.
Strolled along shopping streets. The straw hat was obviously a must.
Browsed through vintage shops and record stores.
Stopped for numerous coffees and creme brûlées.
Ate other good things like lemon-merengue tarts, baguettes, croissants, snails. You know, the usual stuff.
Went to some famous fancy macaron shop. Sadly I can’t remember the name of any of these places. Which I guess usually is the case with anything in the French language.
As if there wasn’t already enough clichés around, an old carrousel showed up out of nowhere. Very cute.
And of course we just had to sit there and pose for a minute.
Yes, you know what comes next. A little trip to the old tower. So we finally arrived at the Eiffel tower, gazed at it a little too long, admired it a little too much, had a few beers, a picknick on the lawn, all the fun.
I remember having this little moment by myself, sitting by the canal, listening to Yann Tiersen and feeling absolutely in love with this place.
Paris does that to you.
We also did a little trip with the subway train to an incredible graveyard where lots of famous people are buried. Once again, can’t remember the name. But it was damn pretty.
One of Nika’s wishes was to visit Jim Morrisons grave, and Nika made sure to leave a little origami bird with her kiss on it. Just look at this doll face. Jimmy would’ve blushed, I’m sure.
In the evenings there was less of taking photos and more fun of other sorts. Like drinking wine and eating tons of olives in our hotel room. So many that we could fill half a bottle with olive stones, as you can see.
We did all of those silly, rebellious things during this trip. The sort that you definitely shouldn’t do when you’re fifteen years old and definitely wouldn’t tell your parents about. When we tried to get in to those Champs Elysees clubs, when we met those older men at that trashy bar, when I stayed over at that french guys apartment just before our morning flight home (Sschhh, don’t tell anyone). All the red wine, the ciggarettes and mischeif. I really don’t recommend it kids! But it was great at the time. Everytime I listen to Beirut, or see a boy with crooked nose and dark curly hair, or hear the sentence ‘Bonne nuit mon petit chat’, I will think about this trip and dream about doing it all again.