Josy à Paris VII: Nightowl (The Write-Off)

I haven't been having the healthiest sleep-schedule in Paris. Maybe it's the feeling of being on vacation (from vacation, albeit), or maybe it's Pleuve's speedy internet connection, but I have been going to sleep sometime around 2:00-3:00am for the past few nights/mornings--which is why I decided to not go to bed at all last night so that I could stay up to watch the sunrise at Sacré Coeur (which, according to Lonely Planet's Encounter: Paris, is one of the most romantic things one can do in Paris). 

It was still dark and eerily quiet as I walked to Montmartre. I had to pass Boulevard de Clichy, a street full of sex shops and bars, and my heart started to beat really fast when I saw a very drunk man stumbling in a figure-8 pattern on the street I needed to get on. Luckily he was on the other side of the street when I got closer. Crisis #1 averted.

But I could not avoid the stench of urine in the air (some romantic date with myself this was turning out to be!) and the overwhelming suspicion that took over me of every person I saw on the street, which thankfully were few and far between.

Basilique du Sacré Coeur at dawn

By the time I reached the top of the hill (5:30am), the funicular had not opened yet and the stairs leading up to the Sacré Coeur were lined with garbage, empty beer bottles, and broken glass. It looked like I would not be sitting and watching the sunrise after all--this would be a stand-only affair. I was all alone except for the odd jogger who I made sure to keep an eye on.

Fifteen minutes or so of solitude later, I watched as two female tourists and a man made their way up the hill. Their company comforted me until the man started making his way towards me and sitting on the steps near where I was standing. He started mumbling to me in French--I think he asked if it was okay if he sat near me--and I replied that it was fine. Then he introduced himself as Adda and I knew this was not going to be pleasant conversation so, as my sympathetic nervous system started kicking in, I said my name was Julia (clearly not my name and I don't know why out of all names it popped into my head. I think I was aiming for Juliet but then did not want the Romeo and Juliet romantic connotations so my brain stopped me from finishing it). 

After minutes of silence he asked if we could exchange numbers, to which I said I'd prefer not,  and he asked if he could give me his number so that I could call him if I ever want to meet atop the hill again. I declined again and then he left...for about 15 minutes. When he came back he asked if we could "faire la connaissance", which, based on what Pleuve has told me, is codename for sex, so I immediately said no, I have a boyfriend (copain), and I ignored him. Later he approached me again and touched my shoulder so I said, "Ne me touche pas, s'il vous plait. Laisse-moi tranquille!" ("Don't touch me, please. Leave me alone!") and then he backed off. Being the grammar stickler that I am, after he left I first thought "I totally used a 'tu' form of a verb with a 'vous' for please." Then I thought to myself that I shouldn't have even bothered to say please. I quickly descended a flight of stairs and could still feel him watching me so I decided to leave around 6:30am. And the sun didn't even rise in the direction I was anticipating (which reminded me of the night of LFA graduation when I parked on my hill with Pleuve and Numz waiting for the sun to rise at a spot where it only sets!). 

I guess you could say Crisis #2 also averted...but by a hair.

When I got back to Pleuve's place she was just waking up for school. I showered and slept until a bit past noon and then ended up watching episodes of The Office instead of visiting the Musée D'Orsay. It was definitely a lazy home-day. Pleuve came back around 6:00pm and we had a nice dinner at home with her friend comprising of Cola Gaulois (French Coke--pictured left), goose foie gras with freshly baked baguette, and some Buitoni frozen pizza.

Around 9:00pm I left to take night photos atop the Arc de Triomphe (free admission for me!), which, without a tripod, is quite a feat in itself. After that I spontaneously decided that I might as well walk to la Tour Eiffel too since it was my last night in Paris. Here are some of my favourite photos:

Windy staircase up the Arc de Triomphe

 Les Champs-Elysées

The glimmering Eiffel Tower

La Tour Eiffel from the Champs de Mars

Bonsoir, Paris! And some words of advice to you all: please learn from my mistakes!