Carla Loves Paris

Yesterday I flew back into Paris.

Twenty four hours on the plane is a long time. Especially sitting upright in cattle class. When my bags took almost another hour to appear I was well and truly aggitated. I ran to the taxi stand hauling many kilos behind me to find a long queue. I had a window of one hour before my guy left for work. I hadn't seen him for one month - I was dying to get home.

My taxi finally pulled up and I started loading my camera gear into the back seat and sure enough the taxi driver started abusing me. 'Why don't you put it in the back, there is plenty of room" .
I was annoyed. Everything they really say about this place is true!

My driver grumbling charged out of Charles de Gaulle airport and on to the freeway. Just a few kilometres down the road he screeched to a halt at the sight of red tail lights stretching for miles. I was never going to get home to see my gorgeous boyfriend.
I sweated in the back, nail biting as we crawled along the freeway, dreaming of a shower, clean sheets and getting home before he went to work. I coached myself to stay calm but it didn't work.
F"""king Paris I cursed. Why is everything so hard here.
The phone rang three times "where are you". I begged him to wait.

Then 50 mins into our freeway ride we turned off at Porte Bagnolet into Paris.
The 20th arrondissment was waking up, the golden lights of Paris spilled onto the ground illuminating the street sweepers and the delivery vans. That famous Parisian architecture passed by as we drove down avenue Gambetta. Paris was dark - just the way I love her.
I clung to the window as we drove not wanting to miss anything.

My driver wove through Paris passed her beautiful cafes and whirled around the angel of Bastille just as the light turned from black to blue. The angel glistened gold against blue. When we hit rue de rivoli I was almost home, the smell of hot croissants made my stomach flip. As we turned into rue des archives my part of Paris shone and out the front of my giant wooden door was Francesco waiting for me. He hugged me so hard I thought my back would break and he smelt so familiar, coffee, vetiver, cigarettes and eau de Francesco!!

We dumped my bags and I walked him to the Metro, stopping to kiss every five metres. He took the number one line to work and I kept walking.

Along the Seine and on to the Isle St Louis.
I saw:
Seagulls bobbing on the Seine riding with the current as though they were white rubber duckies floating down stream
The butcher on Isle st louis preparing his shop for the morning draped in a white apron attached on just one shoulder
Next door at La Fromgerie a lady stacked small white round goats cheese one on top of each other.
Giant green garbage bins where disappearing behind large doors
The sky was grey, thick and low with skinny bare branches framing it and the Pont marie was barely visible.
Parisians riding to work on their velibs with no helmuts.
Ladies and men disappearing into the service entrances of hotel.
Delicious black and white photo prints in the window of my favourite galleries.
The boys at Mariage Frere's preparing for the day.
Exhibition posters everywhere.

I went:
To the boulangerie and bought two out- of- the- oven hot croissants. No pesky questions about where I have been from the lady in the boulanerie. Business as usual, just good morning and have a good day. I broke a Parisian rule and ate them on the way home!

Walked up and down my favourite streets in the Marais devouring the shop windows full of beautiful goods and entered BHV to make my trip home complete.

My neighbours ignored me on the way up the stairs. It felt good to me home.

Carla xxx