I made my first foray into working out in a Parisian gym. No the Parisians don't wear haute couture to the gym. Nor do they smoke on the elliptical nor drink wine when they're dehydrated. Actually, I got in a decent workout and made it out alive.
After a quick shower (ok, as quick as I could given that it takes me double the time to do anything with my pathetic water pressure), I was on my way. Today's destination: Montmartre.
Montmartre is the highest point in Paris. It became trendy in the 19th century for artists and those interested living a more, shall we say, bohemian lifestyle - the impressionists seem to have spent plenty of time up there. It also is home to Paris' oldest church, built in the 12th century, as well as the better-known Sacre Coeur, which stands proudly overlooking the city.
It also happens to be as far from my apartment as I can realistically expect to be going within the city. So it was also subway time! I decided to walk a bit further to catch the subway on a line that would take me directly to the area, rather than having to switch. After one unsuccessful attempt at entry (which involved my getting clobbered by the unrelenting, pliers-like security gate), I was on my way.
It was the perfect day to be up there. As this is Paris, there are always tourists, but November is one of the low seasons - perfect for me. What tourists there are in the city right now were up on Montmartre today - no better place to be on a gorgeous day. It was so hot in the sun that I took off my jacket and sat only in my light sweater. Finding a sunlit patio, I had a very French lunch - a croque complet, which is sort of like a ham and cheese grilled sandwich with sliced tomatoes and a fried egg on top. (I've been doing my best to become better versed in French cuisine.)
And I was so happy sitting there. So totally at peace. Whatever I may not like about Parisians and their city, they do know something about living life, rather than rushing through it. Paris on first glance appears busy. Busy streets, crowded sidewalks, unruly traffic. But if you dig a little deeper, follow one average Parisian through their day, you'll realize how much time they take to savour. They savour their lives. Their time. Their food certainly. Their drink.
There's something to be said for that.
Taking a page from their book, I savoured today. I savoured my moments. I sat down and watched a singer-guitarist perform on the steps just below Sacre-Coeur. He was actually pretty good and I knew all the words to all the songs that he played. And as the sun set, I savoured.
