Rise in the Dark

Two days after we moved to Paris, my husband got out of bed in the middle of the night. I thought he went mad.

"Come back to bed at this instant, where are you going at this hour?"

"I got to be in the office at 9am, cherie"

"No need to leave the house at 4".

"You know it is already 8am" 

I rushed to the window. There was some busy traffic on the avenue. It was pitch dark outside. 

"Ha! Welcome to Paris". 

Man oh man....

Despite the frost, the ice, the wind, the snow, the parisien ladies always manage to wear skirt, high heel boots, stockings and stride proudly with elegance on the cobblestone pavement.  What time did they have to wake up to look this good? did they sleep at all? while I was skipping about trying to avoid dog poo on the sidewalk, they swiftly swerved right and left like a little SMART. The worst is to bring my daughter to school by metro when it is dark and freezing. Apparently, the misery was all mine but pleasure hers, according to my daughter's essay for her 3eme ( 9th grade)which I have full permission to reproduce here.


                                                                 

"Paris is without doubt one of my favourite places. However, my Paris isn’t the one of July-August, crammed with international tourists under a scorching sun and suffocating cigarette fumes. No, my Paris is in winter, when the lone street musician plays a nostalgic tune to the moon. My Paris is the real Paris.

Winter is the time of the year when you could wake up to a deep indigo sky that is still struggling to light up. Once out on the streets, rushes of wintry breeze will envelope and carry you into the enchanting world called “Paris”. The street lights cast a warm golden spotlight onto the dim pavement, coated with a delicate layer of white ice. The frost will gently crack under your step as you follow the lingering fragrance of freshly baked bread. Before you know it, you will find yourself in a bakery where the sweet scent of “patisseries” will wrap you with warmth and make your taste buds tingle with pleasure. Take a seat by the window and savour the pastries that will invade your palette with a thousand nuances of sugary delight. On a smooth, weather-worn wooden chair, you can observe Paris bustling to life slowly as you sip a cup of steaming hot chocolate smothered with a mountain of whipped cream – light in texture and rich in taste. Save your last croissant for a walk and head towards the Trocadero.

To me, the Trocadero is the pulse of Paris where one can feel the rhythm of the Parisians. From here you can contemplate the pale sun as it progressively rises behind the Eiffel Tower, illuminating the whole city. The numerous Greek statutes seem to spark to life as they glimmer (oh!) so gently in the morning sunlight. This heavenly beauty will leave you wonder struck for many years to come. Let your imagination sweep you back to the nineteenth century and you will be able to hear the gracious chatters of elegant French “dames” in their superb  dresses, flaneuring leisurely towards the Champs de Mars".