Is it too late to change my major back to fashion design and move to Paris?
As you can tell, I ventured to Paris this weekend. It was amazing and a dream come true, but we’ll get to that later.
This week was an interesting one, filled with a new furry friend, some witchcraft, a good ol’ photoshoot downtown, and intriguing dark history. Monday kicked off with a trip to Miltos for some spanakopita and coffee, where we ran into a good boy. Meet Alfred, the newest addition to our animal tribe. I think we must be like Snow White, gathering all of these animals everywhere we go. Alfred walked back to campus with us, and after being refused entry inside the gate, he found his way in through a hole in the fence. A smart guy. He kept Erika company while she watched soccer, and Andrea and I hit the gym. He showed up several more times throughout the week, so we all agreed to adopt him. Welcome home, Alfred!
Not much went down on Tuesday or Wednesday, other than the fact that my hair was straightened for these two days. I had several people say, “Why would you do that?” or “I didn’t even recognize you!” I did get my results back from my Biochemistry test, and I got an A! Victory dance. On Wednesday, I was feeling a little under the weather, but luckily, we have Myla. We jokingly call Myla a witch, as she is very knowledgable in the use of herbs, essential oils, and other various remedies to help cure pretty much any basic illness. She fixed me a cup of tea and rubbed some oils on my neck and sent me to bed. Thank you, Dr. Myla.
On Thursday afternoon, our study abroad group had a scheduled tour downtown as part of our Greek Cultural Experience Class. Before the tour, Des, Costas, and I walked along the waterfront to finally check a few touristy items off the list. Photoshoot in front of the White Tower, the water, and the umbrellas. Check, check, and check. We watched the sunset over the sea, unable to determine the difference between the sky and the water. It was remarkable. Then, we headed back to the square to meet up with the rest of the group for our dark tour.
The tour was led by a man named Tassos, who informed us all about the dark history of Thessaloniki while leading us around the city. We saw the spot where Bulgarian anarchists blew up the Ottoman Bank in 1903, gazed upon the historic Jewish Synagogue, learned about the assassination of King George, and the unexpected death of journalist George Polk. Gruesome stuff, but interesting nonetheless. Did you know the Jewish presence in Thessaloniki was huge at one point, in which 55,000 were taken to concentration camps during the war, yet only 1,300 returned? I didn’t, but thanks to Tassos, all of us are educated on this topic. With the tour wrapping up at nearly 9:00 pm, we thanked Tassos for his time and enthusiasm, then split up to grab food. I was part of the group to grab dinner at TGIFridays in Aristotle Square, reminding me of a taste of home. Yes, I miss American food.
Now, drumroll, please, you can finally read about Paris! Erika, Mallory, Des, Mandy, and I left for the big city on Friday afternoon and landed around 3:00 pm. According to the information I found on various websites, we could take a bus from the airport to Paris for about €9. Come to find out, the bus only took us about halfway to our destination. No worries, as it dropped us off directly outside of the main bus station and metro stop. We were able to buy tickets for the metro and hop on, riding all the way to our hostel. The hostel was about 1.2km from the city center, a perfect location. After checking in, we headed back out to find food and view some sights.
As a recommendation, we walked to Bouillon, a few blocks away. Emerging from the street, we found ourselves directly in front of Moulin Rouge. O.M.G. To enjoy one of the most famous cabaret shows in the world would be an absolute pleasure, but unfortunately, it is outside of my current budget. Eyes goggling, I snapped a few pictures and promised I’d be back one day. We continued on our path, finding Bouillon effortlessly. The food was decent - I ordered sausage and mashed potatoes - yet it wasn’t something to write home about. However, we were told this is the most popular restaurant in the area, which we found to be true once we finished our meals and walked out. There was a line out the door and down the street, easily a whole block! We timed our dinner perfectly, but all agreed we would never wait in that long of a line for that restaurant. To each their own.
After Bouillon, we hopped on the metro to travel to the Eiffel Tower. Again, O.M.G. I’m not kidding when I say I cried a little. I mean, the tower is absolutely breathtaking, especially since we viewed it at night while all lit up. We took our time walking around the base, eyes glued to the structure with each step. A few meters from the entrance gate, we found a sign with the price list and other information. Stopping to read and stare in peace, a collective gasp escaped as the tower began to sparkle at the top of the hour! We were shook! None of us were expecting this to happen and kept shrieking over how gorgeous the view was. After walking around some more, we decided to head out as it was getting late and the temperature was dropping. We found a tiny playground nearby and made a pitstop to take a few turns on the slide. We’re all children at heart.
Before going back to the hostel for the night, we strolled along the streets of the Printemps, hoping to get a view of the Paris rooftops from the top of Printemps Haussmann Maison. Unfortunately, it had closed for the night, but we still enjoyed our walk. Christmas in Paris is quickly approaching, and the storefronts and streets proved this point by being lined with beautiful twinkling lights and holiday cheer. Oh, what a wonderful life.
Saturday was the most beautiful day of my life, even if the weather was icky and rainy. The morning began with a complimentary French breakfast in the hostel basement, followed by a metro ride to the Louvre Museum. Each of us bought a metro day pass, foreseeing the amount of time and money saved. Upon arrival, we met Ellie, Des’ friend from Switzerland. She rode a bus overnight to spend the next couple of days with us in Paris, filling Des’ heart with happiness and ours with yet another new friend. After a few hugs and hellos, the group of us got in line for the museum. The weather turned against us, and the skies opened up, raining on us as we endured the two-hour wait. Thankfully, the staff turned gracious once it began to pour, and the line moved much quicker. We were able to score a slightly discounted ticket due to our age, yet were extremely disappointed that we didn’t have a Greek student ID as that would have scored us free entry. Oh well. The Louvre is an extremely extensive museum, home to the Venus de Milo, Liberty Leading the People, and of course, the Mona Lisa. She is much smaller than I thought she would be and a bit overhyped, but now I can check that off the bucket list.
After the Louvre, our grumbling stomachs led us to find food. At this point, we didn’t care about eating French food; all we cared about was eating good food. This philosophy landed us at Frog Underground, a cute restaurant serving delicious food. I ordered fish and chips with Frog Homemade Lemonade and was not disappointed. My plate was clean! Nearby, we strolled through the infamous Passage Couverts and spotted a cool vintage shop. I think Mallory and I were in love. The clothing was to die for, but vintage can be pricey, so we only longed for clothes of the past. Directly outside of the shop, we walked out to find the street filled with thousands of people adorned in purple and carrying various signs. From the little French I know and what we could pick up, we were witnessing a women’s rights protest against domestic violence. All I could do was stop and stare, mouth agape and arms covered in goosebumps. The scene was something I would scroll through on Twitter, yet I was witnessing it in extreme proximity. Erika, Mallory, and I debated joining in, even though we didn’t entirely understand what was happening. After several more minutes of absorbing as much information as possible from various signs and chants, I walked into the street to join. Stop thinking and start doing. The three of us walked for a block, and let me tell you: it felt amazing. Though we were but a small number of protesters with minimal knowledge, we still helped make a difference and stood up for our beliefs. The level of empowerment was insane.
Feeling for those who suffer from domestic violence, but also like we could conquer anything, we moved on and hopped on the metro to head back to the Eiffel Tower. This time, we viewed it in broad daylight, stopping for a few photos with the beautiful fall colors in the background. ABBA was right when they sang, “Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain,” as we did precisely that. We made our way along the river and crossed over to enter through security, then wait in line to summit. Again, our young age is a blessing as our tickets were discounted once more. Mandy decided to take the elevator as heights aren’t her thing, while Erika, Mallory, and I purchased a combo ticket of taking the stairs and the elevator. We climbed 674 steps to the second floor, then took the elevator to the top. What. A. Rush. We were on top of the Eiffel Tower!! I still can’t get over it. By this time, the sun had set and the city was lit up, making the view magical. The wind was a bit gusty and chilly, but we spent several minutes at the top gazing over the city of love and coming up with conspiracy theories and various love stories. Watch out for a book soon. Pleased, we descended and said goodbye to the beautiful tower.
Our next stop on the itinerary was the Arc de Triomphe, brought to you by metro travels. Have I mentioned how much I love the metro? The Arc is a work of art, but the traffic is insane. The monument acts as a sort of roundabout in the western end of the Champs-Élysées, with cars flying in nearly all directions. It was exhilarating, and I felt like I was in Mary-Kate and Ashley: Passport to Paris. No French butler, though. After the Arc, the six of us headed back to the area of our hostel to find dinner. We accidentally went into a Peruvian restaurant, thinking it would be French. The food was still pretty good, yet not what we were expecting. I got shrimp and mashed potatoes, yet it was the most fancily displayed meal I have ever consumed. Bon appétit!
This morning was pretty casual, marking a few more things off the Paris bucket list. After checking out of our hostel, we went to Notre Dame. The structure was burnt pretty badly, and exposed scaffolding and ruins are still displayed. After a few pictures, we decided to find a café to grab a few French items. Before the trip, I vowed I would get a pink macaroon. Des and I split a giant one this morning! My first macaroon ever, and it was in Paris. It was delicious, and I would definitely indulge in them far too often if I lived in France. Some other items included a croissant and a brownie, all mouthwatering, as well. Satisfied, we walked along the Seine for a while before departing for the airport via the metro. We all agreed we would kill to have a metro in Thessaloniki due to the outstanding efficiency versus our slow and overcrowded buses. One can only dream. We said goodbye to Ellie and rode off in the distance.
Our flight landed safely in Thessaloniki, clearly as I am writing this, but some turbulence made Mallory and I nervous during the descent. We had a small toddler keeping us company, helping to provide a few laughs along the way. I should also mention that we somehow got seats with extra legroom. I, a 5’3” human being, got extra legroom over all of the other adults. We thought that was much funnier than it should have been.
I also wanted to add a short blurb about the fashion in Paris. Can you say obsessed? I mean, everyone was dressed perfectly in dark turtlenecks, sharp trench coats, smart sports-jackets, ankle-grazing skirts, and the loveliest of hairdos. Our hostel window even overlooked a fashion school where I could see sketches and mannequins covered in drafts. Ugh, in another life. My 15-year plan is to return to my fashion roots and move to Paris to pursue my original dream. I can picture it all now.
Paris was the last weekend of independent travel for most of us. I cannot even begin to explain the level of gratitude and joy I have for these opportunities. Paris has been a dream ever since I was a child, and I was able to fulfill that dream for a short weekend, all at an extremely reasonable cost. I was surrounded by some of my closest friends, even though I have only known them for two months. They make this experience and every experience better than anticipated through their love, support, and of course, goofiness. If I could go through life this happy forever, I will be blessed beyond measure. Thank you, AFS friends.
Paris, I’ll be back someday.