Hello World (The End)

byprimevaldad

230 followers

11 years ago

Paris

My wife and I went with some friends to Paris several years ago for a long weekend. It was amazing! We felt very French walking all over with some cheese and baguette, and stopping in cafes for coffee to watch the world go by. We walked all over that city on sunny days, through the rain, and in freezing sleet. Still, it was always amazing. We really enjoyed our stay, and look forward to the next time we go.

While we enjoyed most of the city on foot, and tried to find some things to do that were a bit off the beaten path, we were tourists. We did the same museums, churches, bridges, markets, and boat rides that everybody else was doing, too. There was one day that we wanted to try to squeeze in a bunch of touristy stuff from all over the city, and we wanted to see architecture and watch people, have good food, and travel far and fast. The public transportation system was shut down due to a strike, and we were on a budget that would not allow cabs as an option. We took a bus tour.

The tour

This was a hop on, hop off kind of thing where you could find a bus at any stop along the way as you finished with this attraction or that. We rode those buses all day, and got on the last bus headed back toward arrondissement 7, toward our hotel with a view of our Tor Eiffel (the cozy and inviting Hotel Eiffel Rive Gauche on the quiet rue de Gross Caillou), toward warmth and relaxation after this long, cold day filled with a bustle of activity.

We had tried to time things well so that we could explore Paris as long as the bus schedule would allow that day. The route we were on began - and we thought would end - just across the street from the Eiffel Tower, a 10 minute stroll from our hotel. We were happy to be almost back to our cozy room for the night. The temperature had dropped after the sun went down as that overcast and cold, but pleasant day transformed into a stormy night with freezing wind and sleet.

Oops

Sortie! Sortie!

While we were following the bus schedule, there was something we had not understood. When the bus tour ended, it did not end where the route ended on the map. The time came, the bus stopped, and we were shuffled off the bus onto the side of the street. "Sortie! Sortie!" the driver shouted. Exit. Exit. We still shout this at each other these days because it was such a memorable moment. I don't even remember there being a bus stop where we stepped down to the street; it was just somewhere along Avenue des Champs-Élysées, wherever the bus was when the shift was over. We could hardly see through the dark night with gale force winds forcing our eyelids closed as we wandered, trying to figure out where we were, looking for an available cab, dreading the possibility we make have to walk the rest of the way, wondering how to get "home".

Back to life (and cheese)

We made it eventually, of course. We were not very far from the hotel, but really did not want to walk in the cold, wet, windy weather for the last couple of miles. Cabs were hard to come by, but we found one. We had some baguette and cheese, and snuggled up in our warm room, and shared our food, wine, and stories with each other and with our friends.

This is it folks. This is the metaphorical side of the street where my current ride is ending. There is nothing to see here. This is not where I thought I was headed. I'm going to wander for a bit, but this time I'm not going back. Every end, of course, is the beginning of something else. Here's to that beginning.

Sortie! Sortie!