"The City of Lights" a Paris Travel Page by jcwarrior50

My original goal with venturing to Paris was as a dedication to my mom who had died a month prior at the age of 53. She had written me a book and in it included the fact that if she could only visit one place in the world it would be Paris, France and she'd go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. This became my obsession and final action to show my reverance and love for my mom. I wanted to do it in memory of her so, without much planning or foresight, I bought the ticket, hopped on a jet, booked a hostel and planted myself in the middle of the greatest city on the planet.

I had originally heard that the French were not very friendly to Americans, but I found out quickly that if I didn't carry around with me a 'better than you' American attitude, people were very cordial and friendly and desired to help me along my journey. I hopped off my plane, grabbed my bags and headed for the train which led out of the airport and into the heart of the city.

It didn't take long to find my hostel because I had printed off the directions from internet and brought them with me in a folder. I hopped on the Metro, which was amazingly easy to use with their color coded maps, and jumped off at my stop. I climbed the stairs and became engulfed with the reality that, at that moment, I was in Paris! The people surrounding me were Parisian and the food was Parisian and the stores were Parisian and all I heard was French. It was great!

I took three steps in the wrong direction, turned around and saw the sign for my hostel. It was '3 Ducks Hostel' - a common spot in Paris. It lies only a block away from the Metro and has a grocery store right across the street. I walked through the door of the hostel expecting to find a 'hotel lobby' and instead walked into a bar. It was around 10am, so it wasn't that loud or smokey yet, but it was a bar none the less. The lady behind the counter was cordial and spoke English fairly well. She processed my registration, told me where I could store my bags and gave me a room number. I was to be put in a room with four beds and was told that I could lock up valuables behind the bar if I'd like. I thanked her, threw my bags in the room and sat near the window, admiring the atmosphere painted with cement and people.

I had been to England, prior, and kept a hectic schedule of tourist attraction to historical item to hotel. I had felt rushed and needed a vacation more, after I returned, than before I left. Concluding not to do that again, I made the decision to not have an agenda each day, but to get a Metro Pass and choose my destinations as they came. There were a few spots that I knew that I couldn't pass up, but overall, I just wanted to be free to experience culture and people and places. It is with this in mind that I sat by the window watching life pass by.

It wasn't long before some other travelers mingled into the same scene as I had just partaken in. They were given the same speech and directions and followed the same steps as me. But, much to my surprise, one of the guys sparked up a conversation with me and before I knew it, I was walking the streets of Paris with some student from New Jersey - small world. There were a few other people from the hostel that ventured out with us and we walked around, window shopped and stopped by a small deli for lunch. There were many Parisian youth on the streets on lunch from school and they were nice and tried to speak English to us the best that they could. We made small talk, walked around some more and then headed back to the hostel. I wasn't able to see the Eiffel Tower from the hostel and, for some silly reason, I thought that it would be a sight you could see from every spot in Paris - like it was the North Star or something. I was wrong and wouldn't be satisfied until I at least caught a glimpse.

I dropped off the other hostilians at 3 Ducks and headed out solo. It had been my desire to see Paris alone, so I was half happy to be free of the company. After walking the streets with someone else, they became less scary and intimidating and I had no trouble walking down to the Metro, heading over to the Eiffel Tower and checking it out.

(I will tell you, however, that I did I have one tool that was absolutely incredible for me. Without it I wouldn't have been able to do all that I was able to do. This tool was Rick Steves 'Paris' guidebook. I had bought a current copy and everything from the Metro to touring tips to ratings and security topics were covered. It was a priceless companion on my journey.)

The Eiffel Tower was fabulous and I enjoyed it from every angle possible. I sat there, staring and imagining how it had been built. I read from my book and saw its history. I looked at the people walk by - some tourists with cameras tangled around their necks and others, who looked like locals, speeding by, not even noticing the beauty that was before them. Then I remembered how, even before the Eiffel Tower was built, many artists thought that it would be an eyesore and didn't want it built. I saw this polarity of attitudes in practically every person who walked by. Some with awe and amazement and others disdain.