Farewell to Paris, a cultural mecca

6/9 - 6 September, 2015: the day I fell in love with Paris. This was one of those days when everything added up to create one perfect day. There was nothing I'd change about it, as every pause, every decision to turn left or right, every decision to stop and listen to live street music turned out to be a brilliant decision that added to a day that compares with the best, made-for-forevor-memory adventures.

I can see why Parisiens say they fell in love with this city; no matter where you go, there is some sort of history, some sort of culture, some sort of art just waiting around the corner to be explored.

I leave Paris having had the complete opposite experience from 5 years ago. It was much more enjoyable. It didn't feel as if this was a foreign place; in fact, I was comfortable. Though one would think Spanish is of no use in France, I think it's a big reason why my time has been so much better. There are numerous Spanish and French words that are similar to each other, and because of that I can understand a little bit of written French. 

I've written about how adventures can only be an adventure if it is unplanned. You can't plan befriending a group of 4 Japanese law students visiting from Japan, going to dinner with them and helping them get comfortable speaking English with us. It was just like with the Kaichi students; it helps to simplify your language and speak slowly and clearly. Add in the reassurement that it's OK to make mistakes while speaking as long as others understand what you want to communicate, and they were very appreciative. We spent the afternoon and evening with them and got their contact information. When I visit Japan, I will now have a guide. Add that to the list of new countries I want to visit because I have contacts there now. Perhaps a Taiwan-Japan trip could be in the works in one year.

Though I left with a different perception of Paris, my view of the Louvre remains unchanged. I knew 5 years ago if only I visited again, expecting the crowds, I'd enjoy it more. Nope. It's a rip-your-hair-out stressful situation, especially around the Mona Lisa. The painting is behind glass, and there is a barrier 5 feet in every direction. Against this barrier is a massive crowd made up of all walks of life, each person craning their neck and sticking their camera in the air hoping to get a good picture; it's as if they're watching a rock concert. Especially on the first floor, there are waves upon waves of groups of tourists, intent on nothing besides snapping a picture. There are crowds blocking staircases, couples standing in the middle of paths, taking pictures and people simply walking around, recording with a selfie stick.

FUCK selfie sticks.

A selfie stick is a useful tool when you're doing something amazing, like jumping a motorcycle over a canyon, driving a car straight into a flaming stack of barrels and then flipping in the air while flames lick the side paneling or skydiving and then flying straight through a rock tunnel on the side of a steep and jagged mountain, not when you're standing in line for a museum. It makes you look stupid and narcissistic.

An art museum shouldn't make you feel this way, and this is why the Louvre is not the best art gallery in Paris; that honor goes to the Picasso Museum. So I decided to head towards a quieter and much less populated part of the museum, an area in which I knew my favorite painting is located. It's a French piece depicting Gabrielle d'Estrees. I remember it from 5 years ago because it's the most unique and thought-provoking painting in the museum (in my eyes). Needless to say, after communicating with museum employees in sign language, I was very excited to come across it again.

Having seen my favorite painting, the trip was a success. This just goes to show that the whole point of traveling is to meet completely random people, make new friendships and see the world, and all of this expands your mind while shrinking the world. If you have a chance to go somewhere, anywhere, new, take it.