On 11th April 2022 I arrived late at night for my first time in Paris with my 18 year old daughter. We had travelled on a high speed train from Kaiserslautern where we were staying with my niece for a week and she’d recommended a two day stay in Paris because, well, why not? The following morning, with great excitement we walked to nearby Goncourt Station and the metro took us to the Seine…coming up the steps and seeing the River and the Eiffel Tower in the distance was completely magical! Our first stop was Shakespeare and Company bookshop. Who was sitting in the rear of the shop, alone, soaking up the atmosphere, none other than Julian Fellows. He was in a reverie and I’d have loved to say hello and what a massive fan I am of his work but out of respect for the peaceful moment he was having, I let him be as I imagined he was communing with some great writers from the past. His wife was an interesting, eccentric character. She was having a good look round the book shelves while I simply gaped from a distance. So began my love for this amazing, incredible, surprising city. Once home, I planned to return for a longer visit. My husband and I went in July 2022 for our silver wedding anniversary and we both loved every minute. It was his first time in Paris and in preparation for the trip he discovered your YouTube videos about each of the arrondissements which were helpful and so interesting. I was hooked; subscribed to your email, listened to your podcasts and have read your book. All of which I’ve enjoyed and found inspiring. So I’ve been in Paris during spring and summer, I would love to experience Autumn and Christmas in the city too. Which is your favourite season to explore and enjoy Paris?
This episode, excellent as usual, certainly brought out the reminiscing in me. Thank you for inviting us all to share our first time in Paris.
In 1989, I used to work for a now-defunct airline, Wardair. We had recently received the rights to fly to Paris. Shortly thereafter, I decided to fly to Paris from Ottawa through Montreal for the weekend.
So, in the middle of August, I flew standby to CDG, arriving in the morning of Friday the 18th, found a tourist Metro map and then took the Metro into the city.
There, following the map, I navigated the Metro to Charles de Gaulle-Etoile to go to the Office de Tourisme to find a place to sleep that night. It was there I first emerged street-side. I remember coming up onto the Champs-Élysées on a repressively hot, muggy, shadowless sun-drenched mid-day.
Flying on an employee pass in those days- and certainly with Wardair- you had to dress business-casual, so I was all dressed up in a collared shirt and slacks. I was overdressed for sure, soaking and sweating after being in the hot Metro tunnels and now up on the street.
I had made absolutely no accommodation plans so I made my way directly to the Office de Tourisme- a few doors down from the Arc de Triomphe to figure something out. A full-time university student, coming to Paris on a whim, my budget was somewhat limited.
A few phone calls later by the very helpful woman behind the counter, I was headed to a hostel near Place Saint Germain in the Latin Quarter. It was a mad dash there as the hostel filled up with guests first-come, first-served. I got the penultimate bed that day.
Once I had dumped my bag off, it was off to the Eiffel Tower where I walked up to the second level. Then back to the Arc de Triomphe where I paid hommage to the Soldat Inconnu, basked in the sun, and marvelled at the city from the viewing deck.
I rode the Metro. I wandered through the flagship stores and car dealerships on the Champs Élysées.
Since this is a family outfit, I’ll reserve a few remarks here but… not 2 weeks before, at 22 years old, I had just come out of the closet. Exciting times.
As night fell, I headed into the Marais and wound up at what has been my haunt each time I return, the Quezel Bar on rue de Verrerie. It was packed with the Friday night party crowd, spilling out onto the street. The music was loud and the pall of cigarette smoke hung heavy. A few chats in English and in French as well as a few beers later, I followed ‘Stephane’ down to the Seine next to the Pont Neuf. I’ll leave the details of this encounter there. Let’s just say that Paris is especially ‘romatique’ for me.
Later on the next day at about lunch time, I left his place not far from Pl de la Bastille and went back to the hostel to collect my untouched belongings. I showered and headed to the airport.
After checking in for the flight back to Montreal, at CDG T2 I went upstairs above the check-in counter and fell asleep. At this point, I had been awake for about 50 hours.
Very shortly thereafter, I was awakened by a couple of Gendarmes who told me to go out onto the sidewalk. Apparently, there was an unattended bag in the terminal that was causing a security risk.
By the time I had wakened up, collected my stuff, and walked outside, they had already taken the bag out into the parking lot. I got outside just in time to see them detonate (yes, explode) the bag. The contents flew everywhere- a pair of underwear winding up on the lamp standard adjacent to the mangled carcass of the now-demolished bag.
90 minutes later, I was boarding the flight for Montreal. I slept the whole way back.
It was one of the most amazing weekends of my entire life. Having been to London with its somewhat unsightly mix of post-war boxes and higgledy-piggledy streets and alleys, the Haussmanian boulevards made Paris so organized and planned. Remember, the first glimpse of Paris I ever had of my own two eyes was the Champs Élysées at l’Etoile- the epitome of his design.
Needless to say, I fell in love with the city and your weekly adventures take me back to that place- and often that time in my life.
Thank you, Oliver. Merry Christmas to you Lena, Otis, and everybody in this amazing community. Hopefully I’ll be back in 2024.
In 1969, my college French teacher, Mrs. Mauzey, took me and five other girls to France to study French. We spent a week in Paris and it was love at first sight! It was a completely life-changing experience! I remember being surprised when the shop keeper understood my French and helped me buy some new shoes! I thought, "This really works!" From Paris, we went to Nice by mini-van through Switzerland, Italy, and Monaco to spend the summer learning French at the university there. Five weeks later, we returned to Paris to catch our flight home. Twenty-nine years later, I returned to France as a teacher with my own French students. Since then, I travel to Paris as often as I can with my family. Paris is my favorite city!
After we moved to the Loire Valley in 1998, I had to go to the US embassy in Paris to take care of paperwork related to a crate we had shipped.
After taking care of business at the embassy, I decided to walk up the Champs-Élysées and realized that I needed to take care of a different kind of business.
Passing the Jardin des Champs-Élysées, I spotted a public toilet where I encountered an attendant who asked me an unintelligible-to-me question in French.
As I stared at her in desperation, she asked the question again ... only this time, she pointed to her lower ‘front’ and around to her rear, making it clear that she wanted to know which part of my anatomy needed relief!
Embarrassed but unwavering, I joined her game of charades and pointed to my ‘front’ ... after which she named her fee and let me through.
My first trip to Europe in 1970, height of the Vietnam war and the negotiations were ongoing. We were told to say we were Canadian. But I was 19, knew a little French and went to the Pharmacy to get help with a sinus infection. Got meds with the help of a French/Latin dictionary. On the way back to the hotel I got chased for two blocks by a man in a dirty raincoat. French class helped me understand what he wanted but not how to get rid of him. I have learned a few vulgar words since but didn’t need them in my second solo trip, 42 years later. Used my French and had a great time. Even jumped the metro gate with the help of a young man. My cc wouldn’t work in the machine. He finally bought the ticket and I paid him in Francs.
Je me souviens comme si c’était hier…. L’année 2000, mon mari trouvait un hôtel dans une route obscure à laquelle on ne pouvait pas trouver, finalement, avec l’aide d’un policier nous trouvions l’hôtel…..mais
après avoir monté mes valises au dernier étage…..j’ai eu mon premier cas de vertige ……..par contre…..je n’était pas dissuadé……je vais en France chaque année dans un coin différent….mais surtout je continue mes aventures à Paris
I’m a little late to the party, but wanted to share my story anyway. I started it in Paris in late December, but work has been a bear since returning earlier this month.
It was late August 1987. I had just arrived in Paris for my semester abroad. For approximately the first two weeks, the students in my program were to live in dormitory-style accommodations in Clichy until we found more permanent living situations.
Nobody told me about jet lag. Despite being the youngest of eight children, I was the first one to travel overseas. So when I got to the dorm, exhausted, I slept. And slept. And slept. (It ended up taking about 2 weeks before I was on a normal schedule.) I awoke that evening when my roommate arrived. We decided to go “downtown” so walked to Metro Line 13 and looked at the stops. “Champs-Elysées!” We both had heard of it. So that’s where we went.
Hmmmm. McDonald’s? Not what I was expecting. Car dealership? Not what I was expecting. We stopped at a café for a drink, and I became very concerned that I would never have enough money to get me through the semester. Back to the dorm for a sleepless night. I was not impressed with Paris thus far. Little did I know at the time, but my hate affair with the Champs-Elysées began that night. And since then, I have realized that every great city has a street I hate. In New York, it’s 5th Avenue. In Chicago, it’s Michigan Avenue, and so on and so on.
Our classes began the next morning at a small building in the Latin Quarter. I took Line 13, switched to Line 10 at Duroc and made my ascent up from the Odeon station.
Wow. Wow. Wow. Look at that building! It’s so majestic. Look at that café! It’s gorgeous. Oh my god, it’s so beautiful here. And that started my love affair with Paris. In a couple more trips, I’ll be able to say I have been there dozens of times. And while it may not be the same building or café or street scene, it still takes my breath away as if it were the first time.
First time was in 1983, and it was the first very big city I had visited. I remember poop on the sidewalk which was so shocking to me from the suburbs of Birmingham Alabama, but otherwise it was wonderful short visit before heading to Nice to “study French” [read: go to the beach every day] for the summer!
First, let me say Paris and I have reconciled and our initial failure to bond was entirely my own fault.
It was June of 1970, and I had just graduated from high school and had secured a position as an
au pair in Paris, through a friend of a friend. Due to delays, I arrived at midnight by bus from Luxembourg, and the family I was to live with were out of town for the weekend...somehow, I managed to find a hotel room and made contact again the next day..at which time I discovered they didn't need me until August. (So much miscommunication!) I could, however, live in the former maid's quarters-up 96 spiraling stairs, next to the Turkish bath...which I mistakenly thought was actually a bath...until I desperately needed the US type of toilet...did I mention I had never been away from home on my own and spoke not a word of French? I was homesick by the time I moved into the maid's room and was trying to figure out a way to survive/flee this horrible mistake...then I learned the two small girls who were to be my charges didn't speak English...and they thought I was the most ignorant adult they'd ever met. After three miserable days, I booked my flight home and fled home in shame. It was a great lesson about thinking things through, being prepared, and having realistic expectations.
In 2018, my husband and I spent a week in Paris, exploring all the wonderful places I had missed in 1970, because I simply wasn't ready for them. We've returned four times since, and in June of 2024, I'm taking our 14 year old granddaughter for her first adventure in Paris. I think Paris has forgiven me.
My favorite memory of out first visit to Paris is the directions that our B&B hostess gave us the night before our first day of sightseeing. There was a bus stop just across the street from the B&B. She said “Tomorrow is the market day. The bus stop is between the olives and the cheese.” I thought “Yes, we ARE in France!”
Actually I would like to share some memories of “my second first time in Paris”. Being a longtime Paris lover, I didn’t go for a while because of COVID and then in 2021, we spent our summer holidays in the Guerande region and decided spontaneously on our way back to Germany to pass by Paris, just driving through, passing the Eiffel Tower, circling around the Arc de Triomphe, driving down Champs Élysées and out again. And you know what? For me that was the best moment of the whole year! Seeing Paris in all its beauty, even just for an hour, back to normal, people just walking down the streets, so lovely!
I also liked your colour comment and totally get the “red” association. What came to my mind initially was blue, strangely enough. Since - reflecting on it - I would rather say it is a melange of green, beige and grey, zinc. Don’t know where the blue came from, maybe because these days I associate Paris with a beautiful, clear blue sky or maybe because Paris opened up to the water.
Anyways, love your podcast, many thanks for taking me to Paris once a week!
In August 1983, aged 17, I had my first visit to Paris to stay with an older friend who was working at Orly airport. Her flat was near pere lachaise. I discovered Mille feuilles and Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours album. Vivid memories of the hot, August storms in Paris and the feeling of utter freedom to the soundtrack of Fleetwood Mac…life was so simple then!
My first trip to Paris is one that I would not want my child to imitate. It was 1981, I was a junior in high school and having saved my own money, staying with my grandparents in London. One day I was walking along the High Street in Walthamstow and stepped into a travel shop. There, a bought a round trip ticket to Paris with no permission from anyone. I left a few days later. My parents were unaware, and my grandparents were not happy, but I left anyway. Because I had little money, I didn't bother with hotels. I just took a coat, camera and over the shoulder carryon bag. Oh, and a baseball cap that had big USA letters on the front. I literally walked the streets after being dropped off by the bus from the airport. It is a good thing my last name is Walker. My only food was a package of Fig Newtons I brought with me in my bag. I was there for three days and two nights. I saw so much while there. I walked into the Louvre and spent many hours talking pictures of almost every painting and statue. It was so different then. No Pyramid, no long lines, just an entrance door and a few francs to buy a ticket. I walked into and up to the top of Notre Dame, I walked to the Eiffel Tower and asked someone to take my picture. I still have it wearing my big ball cap. And so many other places. I was in heaven. But then came the nights and it was cold, even in July. I walked along the Seine, think it would be safer, and saw the island that has the small "statue of liberty." I even tried to sleep in the Les Jardins des Tuileries. I could say a lot more but suffice it to say it was an adventure. I returned to London completely wore out.
I did a piece on Substack a while ago about my first time in Paris, in 1973, titled (appropriately enough) THE FIRST TIME I SAW PARIS - LETTERS FROM 50 YEARS AGO (full disclosure - a few memories from later on crept in) https://randytibbits.substack.com/p/the-first-time-i-saw-paris-letters
1989 first overseas trip with 2 friends, we were 21 staying in a hostel in Place Monge (ridiculous curfews back then as well). Some french boys of course asked us to join them in a bar for a drink, adieu drink finished, 2 walked away, 3rd one went to the bar to pay. We were a little surprised they did not hang around longer, well off we then went feeling a touch rejected......ah yes, the waiter chased us down the road to pay the full bill. A very french experience and a good lesson learned.
On 11th April 2022 I arrived late at night for my first time in Paris with my 18 year old daughter. We had travelled on a high speed train from Kaiserslautern where we were staying with my niece for a week and she’d recommended a two day stay in Paris because, well, why not? The following morning, with great excitement we walked to nearby Goncourt Station and the metro took us to the Seine…coming up the steps and seeing the River and the Eiffel Tower in the distance was completely magical! Our first stop was Shakespeare and Company bookshop. Who was sitting in the rear of the shop, alone, soaking up the atmosphere, none other than Julian Fellows. He was in a reverie and I’d have loved to say hello and what a massive fan I am of his work but out of respect for the peaceful moment he was having, I let him be as I imagined he was communing with some great writers from the past. His wife was an interesting, eccentric character. She was having a good look round the book shelves while I simply gaped from a distance. So began my love for this amazing, incredible, surprising city. Once home, I planned to return for a longer visit. My husband and I went in July 2022 for our silver wedding anniversary and we both loved every minute. It was his first time in Paris and in preparation for the trip he discovered your YouTube videos about each of the arrondissements which were helpful and so interesting. I was hooked; subscribed to your email, listened to your podcasts and have read your book. All of which I’ve enjoyed and found inspiring. So I’ve been in Paris during spring and summer, I would love to experience Autumn and Christmas in the city too. Which is your favourite season to explore and enjoy Paris?
We are here now for 2 weeks and can tell you that Christmas in Paris is magical!
I can only imagine. How special to be there for two weeks. Have a wonderful time!
Hi Oliver (and everybody else!) Joyeux Noël!
This episode, excellent as usual, certainly brought out the reminiscing in me. Thank you for inviting us all to share our first time in Paris.
In 1989, I used to work for a now-defunct airline, Wardair. We had recently received the rights to fly to Paris. Shortly thereafter, I decided to fly to Paris from Ottawa through Montreal for the weekend.
So, in the middle of August, I flew standby to CDG, arriving in the morning of Friday the 18th, found a tourist Metro map and then took the Metro into the city.
There, following the map, I navigated the Metro to Charles de Gaulle-Etoile to go to the Office de Tourisme to find a place to sleep that night. It was there I first emerged street-side. I remember coming up onto the Champs-Élysées on a repressively hot, muggy, shadowless sun-drenched mid-day.
Flying on an employee pass in those days- and certainly with Wardair- you had to dress business-casual, so I was all dressed up in a collared shirt and slacks. I was overdressed for sure, soaking and sweating after being in the hot Metro tunnels and now up on the street.
I had made absolutely no accommodation plans so I made my way directly to the Office de Tourisme- a few doors down from the Arc de Triomphe to figure something out. A full-time university student, coming to Paris on a whim, my budget was somewhat limited.
A few phone calls later by the very helpful woman behind the counter, I was headed to a hostel near Place Saint Germain in the Latin Quarter. It was a mad dash there as the hostel filled up with guests first-come, first-served. I got the penultimate bed that day.
Once I had dumped my bag off, it was off to the Eiffel Tower where I walked up to the second level. Then back to the Arc de Triomphe where I paid hommage to the Soldat Inconnu, basked in the sun, and marvelled at the city from the viewing deck.
I rode the Metro. I wandered through the flagship stores and car dealerships on the Champs Élysées.
Since this is a family outfit, I’ll reserve a few remarks here but… not 2 weeks before, at 22 years old, I had just come out of the closet. Exciting times.
As night fell, I headed into the Marais and wound up at what has been my haunt each time I return, the Quezel Bar on rue de Verrerie. It was packed with the Friday night party crowd, spilling out onto the street. The music was loud and the pall of cigarette smoke hung heavy. A few chats in English and in French as well as a few beers later, I followed ‘Stephane’ down to the Seine next to the Pont Neuf. I’ll leave the details of this encounter there. Let’s just say that Paris is especially ‘romatique’ for me.
Later on the next day at about lunch time, I left his place not far from Pl de la Bastille and went back to the hostel to collect my untouched belongings. I showered and headed to the airport.
After checking in for the flight back to Montreal, at CDG T2 I went upstairs above the check-in counter and fell asleep. At this point, I had been awake for about 50 hours.
Very shortly thereafter, I was awakened by a couple of Gendarmes who told me to go out onto the sidewalk. Apparently, there was an unattended bag in the terminal that was causing a security risk.
By the time I had wakened up, collected my stuff, and walked outside, they had already taken the bag out into the parking lot. I got outside just in time to see them detonate (yes, explode) the bag. The contents flew everywhere- a pair of underwear winding up on the lamp standard adjacent to the mangled carcass of the now-demolished bag.
90 minutes later, I was boarding the flight for Montreal. I slept the whole way back.
It was one of the most amazing weekends of my entire life. Having been to London with its somewhat unsightly mix of post-war boxes and higgledy-piggledy streets and alleys, the Haussmanian boulevards made Paris so organized and planned. Remember, the first glimpse of Paris I ever had of my own two eyes was the Champs Élysées at l’Etoile- the epitome of his design.
Needless to say, I fell in love with the city and your weekly adventures take me back to that place- and often that time in my life.
Thank you, Oliver. Merry Christmas to you Lena, Otis, and everybody in this amazing community. Hopefully I’ll be back in 2024.
In 1969, my college French teacher, Mrs. Mauzey, took me and five other girls to France to study French. We spent a week in Paris and it was love at first sight! It was a completely life-changing experience! I remember being surprised when the shop keeper understood my French and helped me buy some new shoes! I thought, "This really works!" From Paris, we went to Nice by mini-van through Switzerland, Italy, and Monaco to spend the summer learning French at the university there. Five weeks later, we returned to Paris to catch our flight home. Twenty-nine years later, I returned to France as a teacher with my own French students. Since then, I travel to Paris as often as I can with my family. Paris is my favorite city!
After we moved to the Loire Valley in 1998, I had to go to the US embassy in Paris to take care of paperwork related to a crate we had shipped.
After taking care of business at the embassy, I decided to walk up the Champs-Élysées and realized that I needed to take care of a different kind of business.
Passing the Jardin des Champs-Élysées, I spotted a public toilet where I encountered an attendant who asked me an unintelligible-to-me question in French.
As I stared at her in desperation, she asked the question again ... only this time, she pointed to her lower ‘front’ and around to her rear, making it clear that she wanted to know which part of my anatomy needed relief!
Embarrassed but unwavering, I joined her game of charades and pointed to my ‘front’ ... after which she named her fee and let me through.
Bienvenue en France!
My first trip to Europe in 1970, height of the Vietnam war and the negotiations were ongoing. We were told to say we were Canadian. But I was 19, knew a little French and went to the Pharmacy to get help with a sinus infection. Got meds with the help of a French/Latin dictionary. On the way back to the hotel I got chased for two blocks by a man in a dirty raincoat. French class helped me understand what he wanted but not how to get rid of him. I have learned a few vulgar words since but didn’t need them in my second solo trip, 42 years later. Used my French and had a great time. Even jumped the metro gate with the help of a young man. My cc wouldn’t work in the machine. He finally bought the ticket and I paid him in Francs.
Je me souviens comme si c’était hier…. L’année 2000, mon mari trouvait un hôtel dans une route obscure à laquelle on ne pouvait pas trouver, finalement, avec l’aide d’un policier nous trouvions l’hôtel…..mais
après avoir monté mes valises au dernier étage…..j’ai eu mon premier cas de vertige ……..par contre…..je n’était pas dissuadé……je vais en France chaque année dans un coin différent….mais surtout je continue mes aventures à Paris
Merci Sheri 😍
I’m a little late to the party, but wanted to share my story anyway. I started it in Paris in late December, but work has been a bear since returning earlier this month.
It was late August 1987. I had just arrived in Paris for my semester abroad. For approximately the first two weeks, the students in my program were to live in dormitory-style accommodations in Clichy until we found more permanent living situations.
Nobody told me about jet lag. Despite being the youngest of eight children, I was the first one to travel overseas. So when I got to the dorm, exhausted, I slept. And slept. And slept. (It ended up taking about 2 weeks before I was on a normal schedule.) I awoke that evening when my roommate arrived. We decided to go “downtown” so walked to Metro Line 13 and looked at the stops. “Champs-Elysées!” We both had heard of it. So that’s where we went.
Hmmmm. McDonald’s? Not what I was expecting. Car dealership? Not what I was expecting. We stopped at a café for a drink, and I became very concerned that I would never have enough money to get me through the semester. Back to the dorm for a sleepless night. I was not impressed with Paris thus far. Little did I know at the time, but my hate affair with the Champs-Elysées began that night. And since then, I have realized that every great city has a street I hate. In New York, it’s 5th Avenue. In Chicago, it’s Michigan Avenue, and so on and so on.
Our classes began the next morning at a small building in the Latin Quarter. I took Line 13, switched to Line 10 at Duroc and made my ascent up from the Odeon station.
Wow. Wow. Wow. Look at that building! It’s so majestic. Look at that café! It’s gorgeous. Oh my god, it’s so beautiful here. And that started my love affair with Paris. In a couple more trips, I’ll be able to say I have been there dozens of times. And while it may not be the same building or café or street scene, it still takes my breath away as if it were the first time.
First time was in 1983, and it was the first very big city I had visited. I remember poop on the sidewalk which was so shocking to me from the suburbs of Birmingham Alabama, but otherwise it was wonderful short visit before heading to Nice to “study French” [read: go to the beach every day] for the summer!
First, let me say Paris and I have reconciled and our initial failure to bond was entirely my own fault.
It was June of 1970, and I had just graduated from high school and had secured a position as an
au pair in Paris, through a friend of a friend. Due to delays, I arrived at midnight by bus from Luxembourg, and the family I was to live with were out of town for the weekend...somehow, I managed to find a hotel room and made contact again the next day..at which time I discovered they didn't need me until August. (So much miscommunication!) I could, however, live in the former maid's quarters-up 96 spiraling stairs, next to the Turkish bath...which I mistakenly thought was actually a bath...until I desperately needed the US type of toilet...did I mention I had never been away from home on my own and spoke not a word of French? I was homesick by the time I moved into the maid's room and was trying to figure out a way to survive/flee this horrible mistake...then I learned the two small girls who were to be my charges didn't speak English...and they thought I was the most ignorant adult they'd ever met. After three miserable days, I booked my flight home and fled home in shame. It was a great lesson about thinking things through, being prepared, and having realistic expectations.
In 2018, my husband and I spent a week in Paris, exploring all the wonderful places I had missed in 1970, because I simply wasn't ready for them. We've returned four times since, and in June of 2024, I'm taking our 14 year old granddaughter for her first adventure in Paris. I think Paris has forgiven me.
My favorite memory of out first visit to Paris is the directions that our B&B hostess gave us the night before our first day of sightseeing. There was a bus stop just across the street from the B&B. She said “Tomorrow is the market day. The bus stop is between the olives and the cheese.” I thought “Yes, we ARE in France!”
Hi Oliver
Actually I would like to share some memories of “my second first time in Paris”. Being a longtime Paris lover, I didn’t go for a while because of COVID and then in 2021, we spent our summer holidays in the Guerande region and decided spontaneously on our way back to Germany to pass by Paris, just driving through, passing the Eiffel Tower, circling around the Arc de Triomphe, driving down Champs Élysées and out again. And you know what? For me that was the best moment of the whole year! Seeing Paris in all its beauty, even just for an hour, back to normal, people just walking down the streets, so lovely!
I also liked your colour comment and totally get the “red” association. What came to my mind initially was blue, strangely enough. Since - reflecting on it - I would rather say it is a melange of green, beige and grey, zinc. Don’t know where the blue came from, maybe because these days I associate Paris with a beautiful, clear blue sky or maybe because Paris opened up to the water.
Anyways, love your podcast, many thanks for taking me to Paris once a week!
The first thing I remember about moving here 2 years ago was hearing "ça sert à rien" everywhere haha. Bonnes fêtes !
In August 1983, aged 17, I had my first visit to Paris to stay with an older friend who was working at Orly airport. Her flat was near pere lachaise. I discovered Mille feuilles and Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours album. Vivid memories of the hot, August storms in Paris and the feeling of utter freedom to the soundtrack of Fleetwood Mac…life was so simple then!
My first trip to Paris is one that I would not want my child to imitate. It was 1981, I was a junior in high school and having saved my own money, staying with my grandparents in London. One day I was walking along the High Street in Walthamstow and stepped into a travel shop. There, a bought a round trip ticket to Paris with no permission from anyone. I left a few days later. My parents were unaware, and my grandparents were not happy, but I left anyway. Because I had little money, I didn't bother with hotels. I just took a coat, camera and over the shoulder carryon bag. Oh, and a baseball cap that had big USA letters on the front. I literally walked the streets after being dropped off by the bus from the airport. It is a good thing my last name is Walker. My only food was a package of Fig Newtons I brought with me in my bag. I was there for three days and two nights. I saw so much while there. I walked into the Louvre and spent many hours talking pictures of almost every painting and statue. It was so different then. No Pyramid, no long lines, just an entrance door and a few francs to buy a ticket. I walked into and up to the top of Notre Dame, I walked to the Eiffel Tower and asked someone to take my picture. I still have it wearing my big ball cap. And so many other places. I was in heaven. But then came the nights and it was cold, even in July. I walked along the Seine, think it would be safer, and saw the island that has the small "statue of liberty." I even tried to sleep in the Les Jardins des Tuileries. I could say a lot more but suffice it to say it was an adventure. I returned to London completely wore out.
I did a piece on Substack a while ago about my first time in Paris, in 1973, titled (appropriately enough) THE FIRST TIME I SAW PARIS - LETTERS FROM 50 YEARS AGO (full disclosure - a few memories from later on crept in) https://randytibbits.substack.com/p/the-first-time-i-saw-paris-letters
1989 first overseas trip with 2 friends, we were 21 staying in a hostel in Place Monge (ridiculous curfews back then as well). Some french boys of course asked us to join them in a bar for a drink, adieu drink finished, 2 walked away, 3rd one went to the bar to pay. We were a little surprised they did not hang around longer, well off we then went feeling a touch rejected......ah yes, the waiter chased us down the road to pay the full bill. A very french experience and a good lesson learned.