BARCELONA!

Traveling was the easy part. There were a lot of people checking in with EasyJet, but I managed to find a line that wasn't so long. I bought a sandwich and waited for the security check point to open so I could go to the gate. Got on the plane, sat in the EXIT isle and the middle seat was unoccupied, so there was plenty of room to crawl up and cross my legs. The flight was quick, a little turbulence, but otherwise uneventful. Once I was on the ground, I texted Veronica, my Swedish Barcelona hostess and she said she would meet me at Plaça Catalunya, where the bus would let me off. I got my baggage and, after walking in the wrong direction, found the bus. I got on, paid the 4.something €, parked my bag by the door and sat down next to a girl with black hair, who was having a vehement conversation on the phone in English. She was telling the person on the other line about how she had missed her flight and that she was just gonna stay for a while and please wire me some money... she said something about not knowing the date and I told her it was the 22nd. Once she got off the phone, we looked at each other, laughed and introduced ourselves. Tienne, who's also from NY, chatted the whole way in to the city. We managed to exchange information before parting ways at the bus stop. I met Veronica outside the Hard Rock Café and we walked back to her apartment talking about Sweden, NY, Barcelona, her life, my life, everything you could possibly talk about when you meet someone for the first time, feeling you already know them.

The apartment is really nice. And so is her roommate, Lina (also Swedish). We sat at the kitchen table, drinking some Cava (Spanish champagne), and talked until some time after midnight. I gave them the bottle of Rosé I had with me from Paris and as they headed off to bed, I took a shower and made myself comfortable on the couch.

Paris, the Final Days:

I did not want to leave.
Sebbe came back in the early evening on Monday. I was able to squeeze in a visit to the Picasso museum (I took a few pictures before someone said I wasn't allowed to. But I swear, I took a picture while a guard was sitting right in front of me and he didn't say a word!), a walk through le Marais, a stop at Berthillon for some of the best ice cream so far, and a nice rest, sitting on a stone wall gazing over the Seine before heading back to the apartment to await his return. We had a nice, relatively quiet evening, with 2 friends, Lebanese take-out, beer, and apple-flavored tobacco smoke swirling from the new hooka S had bought in Tunisia. French was spoken for the greater part of the time, and even though I wasn't doing a lot of talking, I was still able to participate and enjoy the company. Of course, Sebbe couldn't keep his hands off of the guitar, which was a welcome addition. He's quite good! Around midnight, our company left and we talked and brushed our teeth and talked... but we were in bed by a pretty decent hour. We planned to sleep no later than 10am, because we were going to have a full day of fun together!

It was almost exactly 10am when I got out of bed, sleepy-eyed and met Sebbe on the way to the bathroom. "Well, we said 10!" haha. Good timing!
We drank some tea, watched some French news and just an hour or so later we were out the door. We headed to Kitchen, a vegan restaurant co-owned by one of Sebbe's close friends, Amaury. They had written a little message to Seb on the blackboard (it was his birthday a few days earlier). The food was so good! We both had the quinoa salad... OoH, goodness, I felt like I was back home in Williamsburg, except better: in Paris! AND, it didn't have any of that slightly weird, bitter taste that quinoa sometimes has. It was perfect. And the cookie wasn't too bad either. It was the best I've had in a long time. Tons of oats and chocolate chunks and all kinds of yummy, gooey goodness. Ah. OK. I think I've raved enough.
After lunch, we walked for a while, heading over to a shopping center because Sebbe had an errand to run. His watch wasn't working and he needed to take it back to have it looked at. That was quite an excursion. There was a lot of back and forth, "no we didn't sell it to you, so sorry but it's not our problem" kind of stuff. Even though that's where he had it fixed the last time it stopped working. So finally, we go to a different watchmaker and they replace the battery and Voilà! It works. They replaced all 3 batteries and it cost less than 12€. Not too shabby!
So when we were finally done with that, we walked over to le Jardin des Tulieries. On the way, we stopped by Sebbe's ex's work, she came down and introduced herself (they get along really well) and gave him a shopping bag. Which, I later found out, held a box with brand-spanking-new Ray Bans. You know, the black & white ones you can decorate yourself? Ya.We also passed by Pierre's office, but he was busy with a client and couldn't come down to say hello. So in any case, we went and sat by the pond/fountain/whatever-you're-supposed-to-call-it, kicked up our tired feet and enjoyed the breeze. Did I mention it was the hottest it's been since I arrived in Paris? Super hot. So we sat there for at least an hour, talking about life. Sebbe is so cool, it feels like he's my older brother, not my uncle. I have this tendancy to adopt siblings, or at least place people in that light, because I was deprived of any real ones. So Seb, you're now my big bro.
Eventually, we left, making our way East. I had to pee so badly. We stopped at a Franprix for a bottle of champagne; we were on our way to a little birthday get-together. We stopped at a café to wait for Amaury (and so I could use the bathroom) and had a nice, cold Perrier. When Amo showed up we walked to a store, just around the corner, owned by a girl from London who works at Kitchen. So we had a lovely little sidewalk-wine dinking gathering. It was a nice break for me since she and her boyfriend hardly spoke any French, so everyone was speaking English. We were the first to arrive, but as the champagne started flowing, our little gang grew. All people that were invited, no one trying to get in on the festivities, or anything like that. Mostly people I didn't know, but Sebbe and Amo were there and Pierre showed up after a while as well. He had come directly from work, so he was much more appropriately dressed to be drinking champagne than the rest of the group. There was also a homemade chocolate cake that went around, which was delicious.As the party started to dissipate, Sebbe, Pierre, and I bade farewell and headed off to dinner. Pierre on his scooter and Sebbe and I following far behind by Metro. When we met outside the restaurant, Pierre had already been home to change into something cooler than a suit. We went to Restaurant Chartier, one of the oldest Brasseries in Paris, also known as "the snail experience" by some (according to Pierre). My favorite part, besides the old-time waiters, were the little cubbies, like mini filing cabinets, where the workers who whould eat there kept their napkins. I tried my first snail ever (!!! so proud of myself) off of Sebbe's plate, but ordered one of the 3 fish dishes. It was so hot, I really wasn't hungry, but I ate as much as I could. The boys ate tartar. Raw meat. We were so tired, all there was to do was go home to bed. It took me a long time to fall asleep. Even after a cool shower, I was melting.

I woke up before Seb and decided to go out ahead of him. We had made morning crêpes plans, but I wanted to try to make it back to le Jardin du Luxembourg one more time before leaving. So I took the train there, walked around for a bit, took some pictures, and sat by the fountain where S came and met me a little while later. We walked up rue Soufflot towards le Panthéon, and sat down at Café Soufflot for lunch. I had crêpes with lemon and honey and S had a sandwich. I love crêpes. That's all I have to say about that. After drinking coffee, we walked up to the Panthéon, I took some pictures, but we decided against spending the 15€ it would have cost for both of us to go in. So we headed back home.
I was dragging my feet as I finished packing my bag. Why am I leaving? By 3:20pm we were on our way to Denfert-Rochereau, where I was going to catch the train to the airport. We said goodbye at the entrance and I squeezed through the turnstile with my suitcase, down the stairs, and was on the train by 3:45pm.

Le Weekend:

So I didn't go out Friday night. I was too tired and it was cold & rainy... no fun. So I HAD to go out Saturday... you know, to make up for Friday. I left around 5:30pm and headed to YSASU, a clothing store owned by John, a friend of my good friend Russia (who's actually from Australia...) His store was super cool, I looked around and we chatted about NY & Paris, fashion, Ruissa (our friend, not the country), music, etc. He closed around 7pm, but before I had managed to buy a piece from him. It's a while oversized t-shirt-dress with a big V-neck (front & back), big sleeves, and little cut outs all along the top part. I'm not doing a very good job explaining it, but I love it. I've already worn it several times.
Anyway, so he closed up shop, and we hopped on his Vespa, followed by Joe, his friend from the store across the street, picked up some wine and headed over to his place.
His apartment was a bit empty since he had just recently moved in, but quite nice, with a big terrace; too bad it was drizzling. We popped open a bottle of white wine, clinked glasses, and wiled away the hours chatting and listening to music. I hadn't eaten anything for several hours, so I took it easy with the wine. It goes straight to my head (or more specifically, my cheeks) on an empty stomach. So I was glad when John brought out a plate with lox, mayonnaise, baguette, & veggies. He also heated an out-of-the-box pizza, but it had some sort of meat on it, so I stuck with the salmon. The food definitely helped to ground me and I had a really nice time. It wasn't until John brough out the Jack that things got a little crazy and after a while, I decided it was time to go.
I had made plans with Emmanuel, Sebbe's friend (and intern) for friday night, but we put it off on acount of the weather. So after texting back and forth, I decided to go meet him and his friends by Saint Michel. I was able to score a ride on Joe's scooter since it was on his way home.
After a confusing 5 minutes, I found Emmanuel infront of the statue and we walked back over to the bar where his friends were sitting outside. I sat down and was able to make conversation in French! They were very patient with me and helped me out, which is exactly what I need. I was very happy for the practice. But as the night went on, I eventually had to switch back to English: we went to a club/bar were the music was so lound, I really can't understand let alone for sentences in French. I have no idea what the place was called, it was loud, packed with tourists and smoke machine smoke. All I really wanted to drink was water, but I was forced to order something else before the waiter would bring me a glass. So I got another glass of wine, which I barely drank half of. At first, the music was really awful. I'll dance to almost anything, but I just couldn't make myself dance to this. But eventually, it started to get a little better, and with the first song I recognized I got up, grabbed Max, the only guy in our group who was the least bit interested in dancing, and hit the dance floor. Once I get started, it's really hard to stop. We didn't leave until around 4am. By that time, they had played some really good stuff and our whole gang was up and dancing.
In Paris, the subway stops running some time between 12 and 2am. There are night buses, but they're not exactly convenient, and I'm traveling on a budget, so I'd rather not pay 20€ for a cab ride home. E was of the same mind as me, so we biked. First we walked all the way to Jardin du Luxembourg, Emmanuel, Antoine, and I, where we picked up bikes (1€ / 24 hours!) at a Velib' stop and they guided me home. Let me tell you, biking in Paris at 5am is magical. I would be too scared to bike in Paris traffic during the day (at least until I know the streets a little better) but at night, there were hardly any cars, not to mention people. The whole city was glowing. We arrived chez moi just as the sky was starting to go from midnight to bluebird blue. I parked my bike at the Velib' station just down the street and, after saying goodbye at my doorstep, they continued on their way home. I was asleep by 6am.

Sunday morning, or more correctly afternoon, I woke up some time after 12pm. I drank tea, ate breakfast, showered, checked my facebook, you know, the usual. Wasn't sure what I wanted to do with the day, but it was passing by quickly. So by 4pm, I was out of the house, on my way to le Canal Saint Martin. Pierre had tipped me off about it ("the other river") along with some suggestions of restaurant/cafés in the area. I got off at Chateau d'Eau and after walking slightly off course for 15 minutes or so, I found the canal. I bought a peach and sat by the water, thinking about how quickly I am falling in love with this city. After finishing my incredibly juicy peach, I took out my book, with very sticky fingers. When it started getting a little nippy, I decided to go find a place for coffee where I could continue reading. Just down the street, I found Chez Prune, which was one of the places Pierre had suggested! So I went in, ordered a cafe crème and settled down with my book. After maybe 1/2 hour or so, I got a text from Pierre saying he was back from his weekend trip and wondering if I had already had dinner. I told him where I was and no, I had not had dinner yet, and we decided that he would come meet me. So I ordered a Perrier and after about 35 minutes, he was sitting across from me. We ordered some white wine and the little food they had on the menu: hummus and other dips/spreads, fresh veggies, & bread. It was perfect, seeing as neither of us was very hungry. We sat for a while, chatting about our individual weekend experience, my week in Paris, etc. It was getting late, and Pierre has to get up super early for work, so he gave my a ride home on the scooter (I love those things!) and I was able to get a full night's sleep.

Some Pictures

Took these over a week ago... Saturday night, when we went to the concert at Le Showcase. I forgot my SD card for my camera in Sebbe's card reader so I ended up using his card. Just got the pictures!

July 15, 16 & 17th:

The past 3 days have been so full of walking, my feet are still sore.

Wednesday: I woke up late, ran to the corner Boulangerie for a croissant, drank a big cuppa tea, ate my croissant and 1/2 pampelmousse, or in other words, grapefruit. Best breakfast ever. Blogged about the previous days fireworks, took a shower, etc. Time to go out into the sunshine. I grabbed my book, glanced at my map and decided to head to Les Halles. Pierre and I had plans to meet at a restaurant in the general area before going to a screening of Warhol's screen tests set to music. I wanted to find a grassy place I could sit and read. So I got off at Les Halles, walked through the weird, underground shopping mall, made my way passed some guys doing tricks on a skateboard ramp... it might have just been a statue they were using as a ramp, not quite sure... I found a nice spot under a tree right infront of l'Eglise Saint Eustache. I sat there for a while, watching the tourists taking pictures with the statue without a body and giggling at the rediculous book I'm reading (actually written by my friend's dad... a classic Swedish teen novel. You Swedes out there might know it: Jack by Ulf Lundell). After an hour or so, I got a text from Pierre saying we'd have to postpone our plans... his boss had just been laid-off and they were all required to say in the office late: Luckily, the same screening was showing the following day, so we decided to move our plans to Thursday. After sitting there a while longer, I got up and started walking in the direction I thought was towards Notre Dame... eventually figured out I was going in the oposite direction... so I turned around, this time with a better sense of where I was going. By this time I really needed to use a bathroom. After searching in vain for a public toilet, I went into a bar and asked if I could use theirs. They said it was only for customers, but if I bought something to drink... so I paid 1.80 Euro for a small bottle of water. And the bathroom. Of course, after walking about a block, I saw a big sign for public restrooms down a flight of stairs. Typical. Oh, well. I guess that's what it's like to be a tourist. I was a little hurt though. In NY, they almost always let me use the resroom if I ask nicely. Or at least they would have told me there was one down the street. Whatever.

I crossed the bridge at Point Neuf, walked along the Siene, and passed by Notre Dame for the 3rd time.

Went into a bookstore, Shakespeare & Co., feeling immediately at home. The people at the cashier were speaking English to each other and all the books were in English. New books, used books, Moleskin notebooks, ahhh... Walked down the very touristy streets between Notre Dame & Saint Michel bought some really, really yummy gelato (yogurt & "inimitable", wich is basically Nutella. SO good.) Wandered around for a while, making my way down Boulevard Saint Michel, eventually ending up at the Jardin du Luxembourg. As I was walking in through the gates, a young man I had passed on the street came up to me and asked if we could get to know eachother. What the hell. An oportunity to practice my French! It's not the first time I've been aproached on the street in Paris. Not even the first time today. And he seemed pretty harmless. So we walked around the garden, chatting a little (I didn't take any pictures! Grr, distractions. I guess I will have to go back). He tried to guess what I was studying: literature. Nope. But when I said theater, he said "ah! Tu as triché!" After making a little loop in the center, he confessed he had to go back because he had left his friend at the entrance to come talk to me. Nice. So we parted ways. I was able to wriggle out of giving him my info by taking his instead. He said he wanted to be my tourguide of the Opera. Ok, maybe... whatever you say. These French men are much more persistant than I expected! Now the things people have been saying about Italians are beginning to worry me a little.
I started walking towards my arrondissement, and I ended up walking all the way home.
I have a pretty good understanding of the layout of Paris, now that I've basically crossed the whole thing on foot. I bought some fruit & veggies & milk at the store, made a big salad and, after eating, crawled into bed.
I love going to sleep when your whole body is screaming for rest. It's like you just sink through the mattress and lose yourself in the darkness.

Thursday: Another late start. I've been having such lazy mornings, it's the best. No early-morning classes, no rehearsals or homework. I love Summer!
Pierre had promised to send me some recommendations of places to go, buthe hadn't had much time to send me anything. So it was a great surprise, when I turned on my phone, to see the text message saying I should go to Montmartre, and more details about the Metro, streets, etc. So I put on a summer dress and my most comfortable sandals, filled my water bottle and was on my way! I walked up Rue Lépic, really long & winding, with lots of cute cafés and little tiny alleyways with housed covered in flowers & ivy. At the top, Sacré-Coeur. So beautiful. I don't think the pictures do it justice, by a long shot. But I'll put them up anyway. I went to Espace Dali, just as I did my first time in Paris, 11 years ago. I had 2 sketches drawn, they wouldn't leave me alone. One guy did it absolutely free. And spend the whole time trying to convince me to marry him. Seriously. I spent several hours walking around, taking photos, eating ice cream....

I eventually made my way back down Rue Lépic and strolled along the streets wandering in the general direction of Dédé la Frite, the restaurant I was to meet Pierre at. I still had about 2 hours to kill, but I thought it would be best if I had an idea of how to find the restaurant. I walked for a bit, oggling at all the beautiful old buildings. It seems like on every street there is some magnificent Cathedral, Hotel or just a plain old rediculously gorgeous apartment building.
I even walked by a firehouse with all these firemen playing volleyball outside in the courtyard. I was so tempted to take a picture (I really should have) but I was afraid of making a scene. There were so many of them. Bare-chested. It was such a beautiful old building too, with "Caserne de Pompiers" over the gates.
In any case, I found a little park with a fountain just across from the Bibliothèque Nationale de Paris and lay down in the grass to read.
At 8:20pm I made my way over to Rue Montmartre. It took me some effort to find the restaurant... I walked up and down the street a couple times, thinking I had passed it, but it was a little farther up the street. I found Pierre sitting at a table outside, waiting for me. I sat down and ordered one of the only things on the menu without meat, a really yummy croque-something, with pesto, tomato, mozarella, and I think another kind of cheese, all melty and toasty. Yum. With salad and fries on the side. The fries were so good! At first they came out with our food and my sandwhich was just meat and cheese. Definitely not what I ordered! But Pierre was able to sort it out, and I finally got my sandwhich.
We were finished just in time to jump on the scooter and zip over to l'Eglise Saint Eustache, the same church I had sat outside the day before, for the screening of "13 Most Beautiful... Songs for Andy Warhol's Screen Tests". It was hypnotizing. I really enjoyed it. It was amazing how strongly you're affected by the people on-screen. When they would laugh or smile, I would respond in the same way. The girl who cried made me choked up. Or you would just lose yourself in the deep black of their eyes. It was even more dramatic with all the thunder and lightning outside. Just as we got inside, it started to pour. And when we left, it had stopped =)
So we went to Café Noir for a drink. I really like that place. It feels so Williamsburg or LES. Totally kitchy, so fun. And they play really good music. And the bathroom is disgusting. Yup, totally NYC. It started to pour again and we had to wait a while for it to clear up so I could get on the train. It was too wet, and the threat of more rain was too great for Pierre to give me a ride home. Too bad, since I'm totally in love with scootering around town.
Another really long, exhausting day. But so much fun!!!

Friday: I woke up early, which was weird, considering I've been sleeping so late. Couldn't go back to sleep, I ate some breakfast, took a quick shower and since it looked like it was going to be a rainy day headed over to the Louvre. It is so huge, if you haven't seen it, I can't help you. It's undiscribable.

And the best part is that, as an EU citizen and under 26 years of age, it's free! You just go up to the counter, show them your passport and they give you a ticket! Good thing, because there's no way you can see everything in one day. I'm going to try to go back again before I leave.

After walking around for several hours, looking mostly at paintings from France and other parts of Europe (including the Mona Lisa, of course), my feet and legs were so tired and I was getting really hungry, so I went out and sat on the grass in the Jardin de Tullieries.

It turned out to be a really beautiful day, lots of sunshine. I was way too warm in my rainy-day jeans. I ate my apple and read for a while. Then I strolled through the garden and down the Champs-Elysées.

By the time I got to the Grand Palais (the museum I went to for the Warhol exhibit) it had gotten very gray and windy. Looked like more rain. So I got on the train and headed back home. Bought some groceries and when I got back to the apartment I put on some really bad music, turned up the volume, opened a beer with a fork since I couldn't find the bottle opener, and had a big cleaning party in my underwear. I know, I'm weird, but sometimes I have a ridiculously good time cleaning.
Afterwards, I was completely exhausted. I made some dinner and read some more. Around 10pm, I got a text from Emmanuel, a friend of Sebbe's, asking if I wanted to join him and some friends for a drink. I said yes, of course, but later we decided to take a rain check. Literally. Too much rain. And I was so tired, I could hardly keep my eyes open. So instead of going out for a wild Friday night, I crawled into bed and happily drifted off to sleep.

July 13 & 14: Jour de Bastille

I was a bit disappointed that it took me so long to get going, but it was probably for the best...

I woke up just before 11am. I took my time eating breakfast, drank 2 cups of tea, did some research online. Took a shower, got dressed, danced around to some MJ... it was already close to 4pm when I was finally ready to leave, but just as I was grabbing my stuff, I noticed that my phone was dead, despite having charged it all night.(Something is definitely wrong with my battery/charger.) So I waited until I had a couple of bars and was finally out the door by 5pm.
I walked to the train station at Alésia and tried to buy a weeks pass. But the woman was extremely short and said I had to use the machine. After many unsuccessful attempts, I gave up and went back up stairs to catch the bus. I decided to just buy a ticked onboard. Again, the driver was extremely unfriendly. I mean, I understand that it's a bit annoying that I didn't have anything smaller than a 10 Euro note, but come on. You have the choice to let it anger you that much!
I got off at Rond-Point des Champs-Elysées and I was able to find the museum, Grand Palais, without much difficulty. Pierre was already in line when I arrived. He was talking to some people and when I approached, they gave us a spare ticket! It took a while to get inside, but it was well worth the wait. It was the last day of the exhibit and we both didn't want to miss it. It was actually a much bigger collection than I anticipated. Really cool.
After the museum, we were both hungry, but we were in tourist central, so we decided to move. P called a head to reserve a table. Luckily he had an extra helmet, so we jumped on his bike and zipped across town back to a place somewhat nearer chez moi. The restaurant was right next to the Denfert-Rochereau train station. We were seated on the hidden, back patio. I never would have guessed that this place I had passed by several times would be so nice! And the food was delicious. Pierre was so generous: as I was looking at the menu and we were talking about the different options, he said, "And of course I'm inviting you, there's no question about that. You should get to experience some of Paris' good food, not just survive." I ordered some sort of fish (that I don't remember the name of) with risotto, we drank so rosé and for dessert, I had a crème-brûllée. YUMMY.
After the wonderful dinner and delightful conversation (Pierre's English is very good, thanks to his American girlfriend. And even though I want to speak as much French as possible, it can be quite exhausting) he gave me a ride home. Travelling by motercycle is definitely the best way to get around Paris. You get where you need to go quickly, but you can enjoy the city in the process. I've been thinking for a while now that I eventually want to have a Vespa back home, in NY, and it really reenforced my desire.
Back home, I took of my shoes and settled down infront of the computer. That was when I noticed I had a new text message: It was from Charlotte, a girl I got in touch with through my French teacher. The message said that she and some friends were going out to a discotheque and that, if my night didn't end too late, I was more than welcome to join them. It was already close to midnight and she had sent the message almost 2 hours earlier. But I wrote back to see where they were at. Luckily, they weren't even there yet. So I grabbed my bag, put on a pair of flats, quickly wiped off the smudged make up under my eyes and ran to the subway, thinking I had already missed the last train. But, as I found out later, they run until about 2am. So no need to splurge on a taxi! =)
It took a little while to find them, I had no idea where I was going and started wandering in the wrong direction until I asked a couple where Club Rex was. They pointed at a huge sign behind me, I blushed, said thank you and turned around. They shouted after me, and after a minute of confusion, I realized they were asking me if there were going to be any drugs at the party. I said, sorry, I have no idea, goodnight, and left. I met Charlotte and her 3 friends outside the club. We introduced ourselves, and started chatting in French. My French is still quite shakey, mostly because I get nervous and can't think straight. But I understand almost everything, as long as it's not spoken too fast. She told me that we were actually going to go to a different club, just a few blocks away, called Le Social Club. There was a bit of a line, but it went fast. While we were waiting, a guy came up to us and asked if he could escort 2 of the 4 girls in the group in. Apparently, it's really difficult for guys to get into clubs in Paris if they aren't with any girls. So we went in, 4 girls and 2 guys.
So we danced. And danced. And danced. Until 4am. At one point, this guy came up and started talking to us... and then he whipped out a little notebook and "sketched" a picture of Charlotte and me. Oh, my God, we laughed so much. I still have the drawing =)
Around 4am, we left. We attempted to get a taxi, but it proved absolutely impossible. We were going to continue to a friend's house, so we sat and waited for them to pick us up. We sat on a bench and watched the unavailable cabs pass by and all the late night partiers on the street. After at least an hour, they arrived, but there was only space for 2 more people in the car. So the 3 of us left over, walked against traffic to see if we could find a cab. It actually wasn't that difficult once we got infront of the big croud of people waiting for cabs. So we jumped in and drove through the city to this guys house. Once we were all there, we sat in the livingroom as the sun came up, eating bad pizza (which tasted so good at such a late, I mean early hour). There was stuff to drink as well, but I just took a glass of apple juice and enjoyed my cold pizza. At 7am, I could hardly keep my eyes open. They asked me all kinds of questions about NY and Sweden and let me tell you, it's SO hard to speak in a foreign language when you've been up all night. We wandered over to the train station and, after saying our goodbyes, I got on the tram and headed home. I really love the early morning and, despite the drowsiness, I enjoyed the tram ride. It's like a fast, smooth, street level subway. I walked around Parc Montsouris (I would've walked through it, but it didn't open for another hour.
Finally back at the apartment, I stumbled around, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and fell into bed. I was out within a couple of seconds. Good thing Sebbe's bedroom has such dark curtains.

At 2pm, I woke up in a daze. I looked at my phone and saw that C had texted me 2 hours earlier. I got dressed, drank some tea and ate 1/2 grapefruit and left to go meet her at St. Paul, Place des Vosges. After walking around the square several times, we found eachother. We walk along the streets of Marais, I bought some french fries and we eventually ended up at a cafe/bar for a drink. It was a really hot day, and it was so nice with an ice cold soda.
We wandered around for a bit, passing by the Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris...

And L'Hôtel de Ville...

We crossed the Seine and eventually parted ways. I continued wandering around, I even passed by Notre Dame for a second time. It looked like it was about to rain, so I bought some ice cream (Pistachio & Violette) thinking I could duck in if the sky suddenly burst. But it held up, so I kept walking.

At 8:30pm, I got on the train to Trocadero, the best place to watch the fireworks. It was crazy. There were so many people trying to get there by train, there were policemen at the train station, letting people onto the platform in groups. Once I got to the plaza, I patiently made my way towards the front, where you could best see (and take photos!) of the tower.

The show was scheduled to start at 11:45pm. So there was a lot of waiting involved. I'm sure some of the people there had been waiting all day. People had snack bags and beer with them. Finally, it began. And boy, was it beautiful. Here are some of the best shots I took.

Getting home was scary. There were so many people trying to get back on the train, it was dangerous! While being squashed by all the people, I met two guys and we decided to walk a bit to a nearby station. I hesitated, thinking it maybe wasn't such a good idea to go off with two strange men at night. But I decided they seemed harmless, and besides, all of Paris was roaming the streets. So we walked for a bit, and I felt I was getting pretty
far with my French! At the next station, there was still a crowd, but it was manageable. So we got on the train and eventually parted ways, connecting to the same train, but headed in opposite directions. At 2am, I was home. And so exhausted, my legs were aching. I ate a late-night snack, drank some water.
Finally, sleep!