Fall is here.
As I walk through the streets of Paris, retracing my steps from 90 days since, as if it were groundhog day and I were living Day 1, with everything being flipped/flopped, a wave of memories and emotions flood my mind.
The sun is cold now. The trees shed their only source of food production, and death envelops me on all sides like a big fluffy blanket.
The trees, dead. The adventure, finished. Every summit explored, every lake captured for future reference. Every mystery unfurled, with answers to every question. Gained from a ceaseless rhythm of footsteps, up and down, transcending one mountain’s trial, only to find another, more intriguing, more magnetic scene to bear towards on the other side.
But now, asphalt and concrete are all I see.
Where once every passerby on the trail would greet you with a happy or breathless “Hello!”, now we cannot be bothered to make eye contact. The ubiquitous, egalitarian camaraderie of the trail is apparent when judged against the fierce far-wrought isolationism of the city.
I have thoroughly enjoyed my 90 day schengen zone visa and today is the last day I get to spend in this beautiful country before they kick me out.
I do my own little version of Anthony Bourdain’s “The Layover,” going to as many different foodie and coffee joints around Paris as I can with the €50 cash I have left.
Also I am led to the Eiffel Tower and the Arc d’Triomphe while wandering through the wide, golden streets of Paris before the train.
My final 3 euros go towards a Macchiatto at the Eurostar terminal. When I finally sit down on the train, I’m so tired from the 10 hour all nighter bus ride from Nice that I can barely keep my eyes open! Well, now’s as good a time as any to get some sleep.
Good night!