LA VIE EN ROSE

'La Vie en Rose'

Just under two weeks ago I visited the city of lights, the beautiful city of Paris. Having taken a trip this time last year to see a friend living out there, I knew all the places I wanted to take my Mum on our girly trip. 

The word I would use to describe Paris is 'embellishment'. Everywhere you look there is some quirky, Bansky-esque artistry on an ancient wall, perfectly manicured trees and flower borders along the Tuilleries, or multitudes of ribbons and padlocks of every size chained to various bridges. My favourite book-shop in the world is Shakespeare & Co near St Michel, with views of Notre Dame and the Seine. My Mum and I took refuge from the Parisian rain there; I was so eager to show her this little grotto of literary treasures. The floor is a mosaic of stone and marble in all shapes, sizes and colours, and the books are arranged higgledy-piggledy in tiny corridors, glass cabinets, corridors and cubby holes. Notes, messages and beautiful illustrations cover the walls, and an interesting filled-in well holds tips for the multi-lingual and jaunty staff. Even outside there is a bohemian air as a jazz band spontaneously strikes up a beat and people passing by stop to listen. Indeed, it is a beautiful place to stop, right by the Square Rene Viviani, an enchanting garden planted with floral clouds of white, lilac and pale blue surrounding a verdi-gris fountain. There are so many places like this in Paris, and this is exactly what I mean by 'embellishment'. If you go off the beaten track, you can find beautiful squares, exquisite boutiques, friendly coffee shops and imposing but lovely hotels (in France these are mansions not boarding houses). One of my favourite areas is Marais; filled with boutiques, falafel counters bakeries, coffee parlours and vintage clothes shops where you can pick up urban outfitter style trends for a bargain. Once again to escape the rain, my Mum and I dived into a tiny art deco coffee parlour: Starbucks this was not. I asked for a menu and a polite French-man answered enthusiastically "I am the menu!” We ordered chocolate moelleux with melting middles, mine salted caramel and my mother's dark chocolate. My chocolat chaud came as a small paper cup of chocolate goo and hot milk, the result: divine. A parade wove past the shop window, and when asked what the people were marching for, the waiter replied "Nothing. Some march for equal rights, some march for the lessening of advertising, others just march for the sake of it." Brilliant. A perfect way to end a lovely few days was a trip to Musée de L'Orangerie in the Tuilleries, where some of Monet's famous 'Waterlillies' are housed. The peace and tranquillity in those giant white oval rooms was transcendental after the hustle and bustle of Paris. The white ante-chamber designed by Monet to calm the spirit before viewing the paintings was inspired. I loved how the canvases changed dramatically in the shifting light of the room, and how the view changed immensely depending on whether you were close or further away. The Debussy Exhibition was a delight, linking his music of the early 20th Century to works of art and literature from different times and cultures, as well as his contemporaries. This was particularly intriguing for me, as I'm currently studying the artistic interconnectedness of the 20th Century for my degree in English. What made the trip were the French people. As I'm also studying French, I tried to speak as much of the language as possible, and people everywhere helped me along. From shop assistants to random strangers on the Metro letting me know how to correctly say "I feel like a sardine in a tin can", this trip dispelled the myth of the stereotypically morose French person.

A Bientôt, Paris!