The Perfect Day in Paris

On a slightly overcast day in Paris, my friend and I jumped on the metro and headed toward Montmartre. Eager for a day of adventuring, our enthusiasm was briefly halted by a Metro police duo demanding to see our metro tickets in order to get on the train. In all my local friend’s two months in Paris, he had never run into the rumored Metro patrollers  but on this day, the day I snuck through the bar behind him as he swiped his student pass, they were out in full force. Forty euro later (no lost-ticket-excuses, begging, or bartering to a lower price allowed) we took our very expensive Metro ride to Montmarte. Lesson learned: buy your metro tickets. 

And bus tickets. 

And train tickets (side note: For train tickets don’t forget to stamp your ticket in the yellow box in all the train stations, they will charge you 40 euro also. I weaseled my way out of that one for only 5 but I am told I was lucky). 

Anyway, on to Montmartre. Montmartre is a small artist colony set back on winding streets and squares behind the grand Sacré-Cœur. The Sacré-Cœur is beautiful white, domed, towering Roman Catholic Church that sits on the highest point of Paris’ Right Bank, looking over the city ethereally.

 

We bought a cheap bottle of Riesling (which is nonexistent in Italy) and pack of foreign-looking candy and climbed the steps that lead up to the church. We stopped and sat at top of the stairs, split our bottle of wine, tried all the various candies curiously, and watched all the different performers who had also made the climb to the steps, hoping to earn a little money from those who had gathered to enjoy the view. There were several guitar playing, croaky singers, hip-hop dancers, and one man who juggled a soccer ball all the way up a lamp post. We thought this must have been a once in a lifetime event to see until I looked it up online and he seems to be quite famous. But unlike all the videos I found, he did not mess up once when we were watching. Take a look!

 

After a glass of wine and some entertainment, we headed back behind the church on a tiny cobblestone road laden with cafes and vintage art vendors until we found ourselves in a square. The square was surrounded with quaint buildings adorned with flower boxes and bustling with artists, families, and friends meeting to have a drink at one of the bordering cafés. We meandered through the easels that had art displayed to sell on one side and the artist absorbed in their next piece on the other. We admired the art, laughed at some of the caricatures being done and spotted two elderly French men wrapped in scarves and old tweed coats moving their pieces across an ancient wooden chessboard behind an easel. We stopped to watch until the game was finished and snagged a prime seat looking out on the square under the awning of a friendly café right as it started to drizzle. 

 

We sat there for hours until it grew dark, having cappuccinos, crepes, and trying the French specialty: hot wine (it’s delicious). When the square was almost completely packed up of all its artwork and the hustle and bustle that went along with it, we wove our way back down the stone steps to continue our adventure elsewhere.