I don’t know why but I expected Paris to be perfect in May. It is rather lovely, in my photos but those aren’t capturing the chilled wind freezing my ears or the constant threat of rain and the occasional drops the clouds merely spit down upon me. Though I am in Paris so there is no cause to complain.
As anyone who is in Paris should, I am spending 14 hours of my day out in the city. I did not come here to sleep, no matter how comfortable my bed. I arrived an hour behind schedule due to flight delays (our pilot put is comically simply for us – “ladies and gentlemen you may have noticed that after closing our doors we have not moved away from the gate. That is because the gate is broken. We are waiting for those who are responsible for the maintenance of the gates to fix it”).
By the time I’d collected baggage, etc. it was just after noon before I got to the hotel. I’d had breakfast on the plane not long ago so I wasn’t hungry. I know you’re not supposed to sleep upon arrival but I was so foggy sleepy that I broke that rule. It was the most magnificent sensation. It was like falling into a cloud. I didn’t just sleep I was wrapped in sleep, embraced by sleep. I had set my alarm. When it went off I forced myself to get up and get moving. At the end of the day I was tired and did get to sleep but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a luxurious relinquishing of self to sleep; it was merely falling asleep.