Le Grand Paris

By Melinda S. Blake

Paris Kiosque - September 1997 - Volume 4, Number 9
Copyright (c) 1997 Melinda S. Blake - used with permission

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Le Grand Paris! And, here I was completely alone for seven hours until my friend, Arnaud finished work. As I stood on the pavement outside the famous Place de la Bastille, I knew there couldn't be anything more appealing than just walking in any direction without a map or guide of the city. Being a first time visitor to this sassy city, I realized the language would be somewhat of a barrier. Worry, who me? I had just had the challenging experience of communicating for 12 hours (on an overnight train) with a Portuguese fellow who understood Spanish, but could not speak it. As for myself, I didn't really understand Portuguese, but I did some lightening quick translations in my head over the course of the evening of what I thought his discourse might mean in Spanish. Much to my surprise, we seemed to get on exceptionally!

My feet seemed to carry me to the European chain of burger joints called "Hollywood". I guess you could compare it to a scaled down version of the "Hard Rock Cafes". The waitress was friendly, and even more so when she realized she could practice her English! Who said the French were rude and stand-offish? After awhile I noticed a blonde-hair gentleman blatantly staring at me. When I finally looked his way, he excused himself from his table and approached me. He said he had heard me speaking English with the waitress and wondered if he could join the "situation". Of course I said yes, he was very good looking. Little did I realize that this would be my tour guide around Paris for the next six hours.

Mathias and I agreed to leave "Hollywood" and go and see a movie next door. Oddly enough, "Adams Family Values" which was subtitled in French. It was apparently funny either way! After the movie we shopped around, and Mathias actually tried to buy me a Christmas present. He insisted that since I was away from home, he felt it was his duty. I equally insisted that it was my duty to decline as he was practically a stranger! I asked him if mothers in France taught there children never to accept candy or gifts from strangers as my mother had done. His next response was one that caught me off guard, "Being Swiss, I don't know what they teach their children". I looked at him, he at me, and we began to laugh uncontrollably. It had never occurred to me that he was anything other than French. I admit to being embarrassed at having been so presumptuous; I had met all kinds of people in Spain, many of which weren't Spaniards. Without a gift in hand, but an agreement to let him buy me a coffee or two we continued through the streets of Paris where we sipped our way through just about every cafe in the downtown area. I'm exaggerating, but looking back on the amount of coffee we drank in those six hours it sure felt like it.

At the end of the six hours we both seemed to reluctantly follow our feet back to the sidewalk outside of the Place de la Bastille. He waited with me until Arnuad showed up, and we chit-chatted as people do when there's really nothing left to say that could possibly change things. Who was to say if I would ever see Mathias again? Arnaud arrived, introductions, hasty explanations about our meetings were made, and good-byes were said. As Arnuad and I turned to leave, Mathias said, "Take care of her. She's a special friend". Caught off guard once again, I looked to Arnaud and saw a look of surprise followed by a slow smile spreading across his face. As we were walking towards the glowing embers of the metro signs, Arnaud put his arm around me and smiled, "I know how he feels".

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Melinda S. Blake contributed "Le Grand Paris" as part of the Travelers' Tales, Francescape, and Paris Pages writing contest for the book Travelers' Tales Paris.