A Trip To Paris With The Marriott

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

We arrive in Paris and it's hot. Unusually so.
So much so that everyone we meet errs on telling us that our sweaty upper lips are running with beads of luck. 
I like Paris, the architecture has a charm I think London might have once been on the cusp of attaining but just missed. 
I don't however usually feel all that safe.

My senses are knocked as we're thrown into the back of rickety looking  2CV's and get pushed into the middle of the chaotic chords of traffic with no more than a wary metal frame to separate us. 
The fear doesn't last long as it's almost impossible to allow it, our driver Romain is comfortably sweet with a brilliant british nod to sense of humour and we drive avoiding shade for an hour or so.He takes us past recognised landmarks and through a few I've never seen.

We stop at the top of Montmartre outside Sacré-Cœur and I get my first chance to try my secondary
school French with Emma Pelloux, a beautiful Parisian blogger who scoops me under her wing and recites stories of where she grew up across the view. 
The afternoon beats on and we take refuge at Renaissance Le Parc Trocadero and fill our plates with a buffet of incredible food, gazpacho in glass bubbles and serano ham wrapped in newspapers, the grounds of the hotel are like a tiny oasis that you'd never imagine to stumble upon in the middle of the bustle. 
Blissed out and contented but not for too long as we run straight over filled to the brim to the Grand Palais to gorge on a different sort of treat- Jean Paul Gaultier.
I felt so immersed, so relaxed, so ready to take on my own Paris adventure and pushed ahead from the group to reinvent myself as a chic arty local (far from the sticky, sweaty tourist I looked) and glided around the halls.
The evening in short was perhaps the happiest I'd felt all year.
We checked into the Renaissance L'arc De Triomphe, cooled down and headed to the roof terrace for champagne and dinner cooked by this insatiably hot chef who'd won the Euro version of Master Chef.
The champagne continued, a confident Charly Cox paraded, I waved goodbye to the english language and exercised whatever drunken french I could muster. 
We went on a magical after dark tour of the city that I flinched at people watching through a screen, my camera stayed firmly in my bag and I wandered through it all with a drink in hand knowing I'd possibly never get to see anything this special again. 



Ending up in Paris' version of Mahiki I was sceptical, but we celebrated on at new friendships and a successfully organised day and as the others started to flit back to their beautiful hotel rooms I stayed out with one lovely french man to be greeted with Kool and The Gang performing a set.
Kool and the god damn GANG!!!!!
I danced, I danced, I danced, until he reminded me I had a 7:30am Eurostar to catch and he walked me home.
We stopped in the middle of the street, the chaos from earlier asleep, to stand in the rain. 
He kissed me opposite L'Arc De Triomphe and I officially became whatever sophisticated Parisian woman I'd hoped I would before I arrived. 
It should merely be a dream, but for some strange reason, reality granted me a very special few days.
Thank you Marriott, for changing my perceptions of Paris and showing me the best side of travel.

7 comments:

  1. Your photography is just incredible. Looks like you had a fabulous time!
    Love

    Ana

    RavishingRoses

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  2. My Paris trip last year left much to be desired, perhaps it was the lack of (what sounds like) a gorgeous Frenchman kissing me in the rain. Maybe my drunk, broken French was not near as endearing as yours...
    Your writing is so beautiful. It totally threw me back to the hectic Parisian lifestyle: along with some hilarious champagne and dance-filled nights. I let myself stray away from reading your blog, but I am back with as strong a love as ever.
    x

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  3. Ah your writing draws me in to the point that I forget where I am---also your trip to Paris was nothing like mine (and I just went a month ago) because we were the stickiest tourists and there wasn't any romance (except maybe between my friend and the plentiful fromageries).

    Anyway, your blog is such an inspiration to me. No joke, it definitely drove me to start my own. Because I didn't think there was a place on the internet for lifestyle blogging + interviews of other people + photography + "thoughtcatalog"esque pieces that aren't listicles. So thank you for that :)

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  4. I love reading your stories, they're so much more than the typical here, what, when of some travel adventures. Your writing is poetic but not sickeningly so, not full of the oldest cliches, it captures me and this particular account of Paris reminds me of the 20s - one of my specialist subjects at University. I'm sure you've read some too?

    Anyway - beautiful writing and photos, I like the little paragraph separators like those sequins! Please keep up the good work, your web address comes up far too often in my search bar in the hope you've done a new post. So, undoubtedly you're busy, but I'd love to see more, more! - x

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