That Day in Pictures - First Glimpse

We are off to the City of Light this Christmas week and I wanted to stick with my Sunday practice of writing about a picture from the past and it seemed appropriate to write about my first impression of Paris two and a half years ago because there's a little story, and it's not what you might think.  (I wrote this yesterday, Sunday, but it didn't post and I couldn't get it to work until today, Monday)

Dan and I had left San Francisco, flew all day with one layover in Minneapolis and then got on a sleeper night flight bound for Paris.  I hadn't slept at all the night before we left, part of it excitement, the other part I had punctured my hand helping someone prune their trees the day before we flew out and it was throbbing.  In spite of being able to recline on the night flight, I barely slept at all.  When we arrived in Paris, I was extremely groggy/numb minded with my contacts glued to my eyes.  I tried to act excited but I was pretty miserable.  We were at the airport a long time and to make matters worse, we arrived at an older terminal that had one bathroom with only two stalls - I was astonished at that and the wait in line took forever.  When we arrived at our hotel near the Arc de Triomphe on Avenue Kleber, it was only mid morning in Paris (and 1 am in CA) and we wouldn't be able to check in until 2 pm at the earliest.  I panicked!!! What??  I only wanted to sleep, I didn't care about anything else.  Dan suggested that we walk the Champs-Élysées to the Tuileries and do some sightseeing until we could check in and sleep.  Now I had dreamed about that particular walk for a long time and to even be in this city and on my honeymoon no less but I was unmoved at all I saw and heard.  It wasn't registering - I wasn't impressed at all.  We were both pretty quiet and I was trying very hard to act cheery and upbeat but I could feel a tantrum coming up to the surface that would be beyond reason or control.  You know how a 2 or 3 year old is when they are so overtired that you can't reason with them?  That was me.  Suddenly on that walk I blurted out "where are all the cobble stones or pavers?  It's just packed dirt we're walking on!  It doesn't even look like I imagined!"  Dan had the wisdom to not answer any of my ranting.  When we arrived at the Tuileries and I took in the hundreds of tiny cafe tables and chairs on the plaza surrounding the fountain and throughout the park that I had only seen in pictures, I just wanted to know how long we had until we could turn around and go back.  Dan suggested I go to the ice cream truck nearby and get something to cheer me up.  I went, but was so embarrassed to have to use the French words I had memorized to order some and didn't want to use English instead and tick off the Parisiennes so I just walked up to the counter person, said nothing and walked away in a huff.  I think Dan went and got some then.  After, we decided to turn around and walk back on the other side of the Champs.  Near out hotel we went to a little cafe to sit outside in the warm September sun and eat some lunch. I ordered a baguette with ham and cheese and complained to Dan that the ham tasted too "piggy", barnyard like, so I didn't finish it.   I can only imagine what was going through his head at my strange, childish behavior (like, what have I done?).  I can now understand why sleep deprivation can be used as a form of torture or brainwashing (Jason Bourne?)  Finally we were able to check in.  I couldn't even appreciate the gorgeous old world hotel we were walking in to nor did I take in the surroundings of our room - I fell in to bed and we slept all the rest of the day and in to the night waking up around 3 am to eat the tray of fruit and chocolate they had provided for us, and we went back to sleep immediately for several more hours.  When I woke up, I was me again.  Our room and hotel was absolutely elegant.  I couldn't get outside fast enough to start our adventure. Every sight, smell, sound I took in as we set forth was charming, enchanting, glorious, everything I hoped for and I said all this to Dan.  He mentioned the packed dirt and we laughed about that .  And then suddenly appearing around the corner; the Eiffel Tower!

The Moral of this story?  Never underestimate the power of sufficient sleep or lack thereof (nor judge too harshly the sleep deprived).

Here I am later that day (the good day) at a piano concert in the Latin Quarter - well rested and happy as I was the remainder of that trip.  The one we're on this week will be sure to include a lot of bread, pastries and hot chocolate.  Joyeux Noel!