C'est la belle vie

December 12, 2008
Paris, France

One must record their first impressions of France. You really shouldn't let the glasses of wine and the increasing exhaustion of travel and transit force you to sleep and blur the experience. And here I write:

My first thought-despite it feeling colder here than in London-was where are all the pretty people? I felt like they all stayed in London. Parisians are homely and fair-some are outright ugly to be honest. Hair is matted and disheveled, eyeliner is applied too thickly and most ensembles are seemingly, loosely and quickly thrown together.

The metro isn't as nice either. It stinks for one, and there is an absence of escalators and personnel around. The turn stalls are a pain and the trains are old. I would say of every city rail system I've been on this year-Paris comes up last in terms of cleanliness and modernity. That's saying something considering I've been to Manila.

Of course it's not all bad, I just needed to get the negative out so I could embellish the positive. I found the pretty people in shopping malls wearing designer clothes and smelling better than laundry fresh out of the drier. Then again when I met Olivier's friends and later in the week when we went out dancing.

Paris is quiet. It's surprising how quiet it is near a main street or just around the corner from a common landmark busy with visitors. Parisians have been quite friendly today as Olivier and I walked around lost most of the day stopping random people for directions. Perhaps because conversations were conducted by Olivier in French, but I'm not letting that arguably arbitrary fact sway my feelings that we were met with very friendly people today. Helpful people and some quite jovial.

The reputation for a love of food is duly deserved. Food literally lines the sides of some narrow, cobblestone streets we walked down today. Seafood, fruit and vegetables, even spices are prominently displayed enticing even the un-hungry to stop and browse a while.

I helped a Guatemalan girl carry her luggage to Gare du Nord this morning when I got of the bus. Then I met Olivier near Chatelet and we stashed our luggage at his old workplace and walked around the city past the Moulin Rouge, Notre Dame and a couple other cathedrals. I bought a phone and SIM straight away so that's out of the way.

I was exhausted by 7:00pm when we met Oliv's beautiful girlfriend Elod back where our bags were. I was staying (am staying) at Olivier's friend's house, Rafael. He cooked dinner for us tonight. Seared duck, with fried potatoes served with a blue cheese sauce and a fruity white wine for accompaniment. This will forever be my first dinner in Paris-and what a welcome it was!

It's gearing up to be a great weekend!

A couple journal entries

Journal entry for April 8, 2008
Gili Trawangan

The past 36 hours have taught me how valuable a travel companion can be. For short stints of travel going solo is okay, but for longer trips like what I’m doing, I’d really like a friend to talk to, laugh with, bounce ideas off of, share in fortune and misfortune and be an outlet to vent a little bit.

I woke up with a sore throat Monday after my birthday. I didn’t feel like doing anything, but new I needed to get out and see something. From Seminyak, I traveled to Kuta, bus to Padanbai via Ubud, ferry to Lembar on Lombok where I took a taxi to Senggigi and stayed the night, then a boat to Gili T in the morning.

I generally don’t like ferries; they’re too crowded and dirty. But this on held a wonderful secret… American power outlets! I noticed them while I was in the bathroom. This was good news since my camera battery ran out on my birthday. I had been meaning to find an adapter but never did. I was afraid of not finding on at all. I recharged my battery and now I’m hoping all the ferries will have American power outlets in them. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.

Gili seems cool. Everything is slow, people walk slower, smoke their cigarettes slower and nobody is in too big a hurry. There are a lot of dive shops and restaurants. I’d like to walk around the island tomorrow, maybe do some snorkeling and hopefully meet some new friends. I’m using my cold as an excuse not to go diving. Otherwise at $30 a dive, I think I’d be tempted.

April 11, 2008

“Are you rich?” she asked. ‘Am I rich?’ I thought, ‘I have roughly six thousand dollars in various accounts, no car, no house, no job, no specific trade or skill and I’m carrying most of my possessions on my back. But am I rich? Certainly not right?’

“I think you are rich.” She had decided for herself. At twenty years old she helps her family run a shop selling sandals to tourists, hasn’t been further from home than the neighboring island to the east and doesn’t have a boyfriend because she wants one “like this” she says pointing to me.

Yeah, I’m rich. I’m healthy, I have food in abundance, I water my houseplants with water clean enough to drink, I spend more time wondering which clothes to wear instead of if I have clothes to wear, I’ve left my home country on several occasions, by my own will and for leisure at that, and the money I earn is mine to keep. Interesting isn’t it? How rich we really are?