You know when you meet someone who loves the same book that you do, and you immediately get excited, talk about that book for ages, and a little spark goes off inside you which tells you that you’re not alone? That’s how I’ve been feeling lately. Only that friend isn’t a person – it’s a city. Paris really gets me.
Whether it’s stumbling upon tiny artists’ studios, admiring the Impressionist works at the Musee D’Orsay, or wine and mingling with fellow book lovers at Shakespeare & Co., I feel like I am always surrounded by kindred souls.
On Sunday, June 6, all museums in Paris were free. So I put on my explorer’s hat (but forgot my umbrella) and headed straight to the Musee D’Orsay, where I waited in the rain for 45 minutes to get inside. When I finally got in, I found myself in paradise. I sat in the Impressionism gallery on the 5th floor in a room filled with works by Monet, Renoir, and Degas, thinking how lovely it would be to have the room all to myself.
What I’ve been experiencing is so much more a feeling than a thought, so it’s hard to put it into words. Instead, I’ll share a few gems from the weekend:
I keep discovering new places in this city, new things to delight over. I don’t know if I will ever get tired of Paris.
I will leave you with a small story I came across earlier today:
“Now that I have been here for a while, I can say with certainty that I have never been here before.”