Feb 18

I will never be a flâneuse/Starbucks is my life.

I don’t care if people dislike Starbucks, it’s sometimes all that gets me through the day. Which is why I’m so uneasy about giving up my daily Mocha Blanc to save some cash, but I’ve made 1,000 new years resolutions and this year I’m going to follow them! (Even if the first month and a half was unsuccessful…)

Bringing me to last night; it’s 2am and I’m attempting to work. Procrastination takes over and I come across this years resolutions: Get fit, Save money, and get into photography. Of course, all I’ve done so far is spend £500 on a camera which is currently sat on a shelf at my friends apartment. (Actually, this buy was one of my better moves and I really do miss my camera, despite only being without it for since yesterday…) 

Then there’s my next resolution: Get fit. I always say I’m going to do this but there is always an excuse. I do the occasional session of P90X, but I never keep to my word and as student/vegetarian it’s safe to say that my eating habits aren’t exactly great. But I sat and drew up what exercise I would do, and what I could and couldn’t eat. (Who knew that when I was too tired to write a bit of French history I was still able to do a 40 minute cardio sesh?!) 

So onto to the actual subject of this post, and my inspiration to start writing (even if I’m the only one that ever reads this) about my crazy Parisian life. It was after I finished uni today; I decided I to walk the 1.5 mile journey to the bank: it was a nice day, why not? 

It should probably be explained at this point that I am undoubtedly the clumsiest, stupidest, and most disorientated person I know. Even after almost 5 months of living in Paris, whilst staring at my phones GPS to make sure I was taking the fastest route, I still managed to walk 2 miles in the wrong direction, and end up practically in the banlieues of Paris. Not my best move. 

Whilst backtracking on the last 20 minutes of my walk, I tried to be positive and remember how pretty Paris is, and that I was lucky to be a flâneuse in such a city. However it was at this point, whilst in the middle of crossing over the Seine, that I witnessed the lovely sight of an SDF using the river as a loo. Lovely. Having explained the situation to my sister, I decided to send her a picture of the situation, failing to notice the couple walking behind me, who looked a bit confused as to why I was taking a picture of a man having a wee. Awkward.

Pas grave, I was still in Paris, I had the Petit Palais to my right and the Grand Palais to my left, no need to complain. It was a few minutes after this that in the trance of texting, I absent mindedly crossed a road, not noticing that I was walking onto the centre of a roundabout, and even worse, that I actually needed to turn around and cross back to exactly where I had just come from. Slightly embarrassing.  STILL, pas grave. 

I was, by this point, relying almost completely on my phones GPS. I walked along and began to cross a road, then I noticed that a policeman was shouting at me, and that I had been ignoring him telling me to get off the road for a while.. Oops. Somewhat embarrassed, I once again backtracked on myself, crossed to somewhere else, and again tried to walk towards Opéra. After a few metres, 4 policeman surrounded to me and ask if I work at the palais. I say no, and I am once again sent back to the roundabout. 

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or try to find a metro station. If people kept telling me I couldn’t use the roads, I thought that I might have to resort to travelling underground. It was the sight of a dog wearing a beret and it’s owner eating a baguette that refueled my “it’s sunny, chill out” spirit, and I decided to venture on. After about 20 minutes of walking around all of the blocked off roads, I got to Opéra: I was so close to the bank! I got a little bit too excited and as I tried to walk onto a curb, I managed to slip over in front of a street packed with tourists and businessmen. (Being laughed at for being clumsy; new country, same story!) However, at this point, knowing exactly where I was, I figured that nothing else could go wrong. It was due to this that I missed the road I was meant to turn down, and didn’t notice this for a long time. I ended up taking another massive detour. Spoke too soon…

But, I made it! I was at the bank. I went in, spoke to the man that works there, (who laughs at my french and reminds me every time I see him that he has visited my hometown in England), and left as fast as possible. I was so close to going home; I just needed coffee. I had been up since 7:30am and nothing could keep me from Starbucks. BUT, after working out that I spend around 100€ there each month, I knew I couldn’t buy a coffee to go. I grabbed a bag of coffee and walked home. 

It was all that got me through my walk home, all that is getting me through my essay, and I’m pretty sure all that will get me through the next few weeks without entering a coffee shop! Maybe I should cut down on my coffee..