Paris at Night
When I walked by the Pantheon in Paris the first time, I had no idea of the impact it would have on my memory. Like most memories, it was one that I had no intention of holding on to, but ended up having it seared into my brain. One’s mind has a way of surprising itself that way.
So many things about Paris are memorable. Paris is one of those cities that has seen such variances of people and cultures. If you could talk to the city of Paris, it could say some like, “Yeah – been there, done that. I’ve seen it all”. Almost like an old cop training a rookie who just joined the police force. And as a tourist, I was prepared for that awe of seeing places like Versailles or the Louvre. As a tourist, I looked forward to seeing places with so much history. But these are not the things that leave a mark on a person’s memory, or conjure up the feeling that a person gets when thinking of a specific place.
To explain, I should inform the reader that I was traveling with my aunt, who has traveled all over Europe, and is a great lover of Paris. She does not believe in fancy tours. We set our own schedule, and plan out what we want to see and when. It involves a lot of public transportation and walking.
Our hotel was located a little ways up the street from the Pantheon, near the Rue Mouffetard. Every morning we would walk out the door, grab some breakfast at the nearby Patisserie, walk past the Pantheon, where the same boy was practicing with his soccer ball every day, make our way down the Boulevard Saint Michel by walking past Luxembourg Gardens, and head toward the nearest metro station to begin our quest for the day . Every day was a new adventure. And every day we came “home” exhilarated and exhausted. I was incredibly happy to be given this opportunity to see such a famous city, and experience all the awe-inducing sights. I have many pictures of places I saw, but none that remind me of my Paris. And yes, I know how that sounds.
We were not in Paris for more than a couple days when my aunt got sick. Once we were done for the day she would be too tired to do anything else. This was unlike her. I was so used to trying to keep up with her brisk pace that I didn’t know what to do with myself in the evenings. So I started to venture out on my own. By now I knew the general direction that Notre Dame was from our neighborhood; I decided to walk there by taking the Rue Saint Jacque, which was new territory for me.
It should be noted that although this trip was an incredible opportunity for me, my life in general was looking quite bleak. I was in my very early twenties and a couple years into college. I was paying my way through community college by working at a video store. The hours were rough, I was tired all the time, and more importantly I was at what I knew to be a critical juncture in my life – and I had no idea what to do about it. The rest of my life was this huge, black vortex of emptiness that I just couldn’t picture, and I wasn’t feeling good. Emotionally or physically. It took its toll on my grades. I was spiraling.
So as I passed the Pantheon on my way to Notre Dame, I came to love the feeling of something solid, friendly, and oddly enough – homey. I loved walking down that street. I loved looking at those buildings because they became so familiar. And more than anything I loved to sit on the statue in front of Notre Dame and just look at everything around me. At that moment in my life there was nothing more beautiful than Paris at night. Especially sitting on that statue. It made me feel unbreakable. I did this every night until we left.
When I think of Paris, I think of the Pantheon; I think of walking past it every day on the way to just about everything, the boy always playing soccer, and I think of walking past it at night on the way to my favorite spot in Paris. Well, really one of my favorite spots in the world. The mind works in odd ways, but it knows what it’s doing. It gave me a memory that isn’t just a nice keepsake, but a memory that I needed. And one that gave me strength.
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