The apartment smells like freshly brewed coffee. The smell infiltrates every corner of my new little apartment, seeping out of the French press I left on the counter and the cup that sits next to me on the table. Sunlight is streaming in the window, despite the floaty, thin, white curtains that hang loosely to the sides. The day is so beautiful that even the worn cobblestones in the tiny courtyard below our window look new and fresh.
I’ve been moved into my new apartment for about three weeks now, and the time has whirled past me so quickly it hardly feels like I’ve blinked since I first arrived back in Paris. Being back here feels a little different this time, maybe in part because of my new location. I’ve moved into an apartment with one of my best friends, who I met here last fall, and now live in a quiet little apartment, hidden away behind a few buildings, but tucked right into one of the center folds of Paris. We’re nestled just in between Montmartre and the Opera, about a miles walk from places that used to feel out-of-the-way to go visit.
Since we’ve moved here, I’ve stopped taking the metro as often and have started walking to any destination that falls within a 2-mile radius. The first week we moved here, I walked to one of my favorite study spots, Anticafe, a pay by the hour cafe located on Rue Richelieu near the Louvre (American students missing coffee shop-esque study environments: this is the spot), and realized my proximity to some of Paris’ most well-known museums. Instead of going directly to the cafe to work, I popped into the Louvre for 2 and a half hours and had my fill of Greek and 18th-19th century French art before diving into my homework.
Later that same week, I decided to go visit the Musée Picasso, a well-done museum tucked into a house in a courtyard of the Marais district in the 3rd arrondissement. The mile and a half walk there allowed me to learn the quarter a little better, and helped me gauge how long it would take to get after walking a little further into the quarter for a cappuccino at Le Voltigeur, a cafe around the corner that specializes in making them.
With my proximity to what a could easily be the majority of tourist attractions in Paris, I’ve moved into a mode of renewed excitement for exploration. I’m thrilled to be in this spot, if only to learn this part of the city like the back of my hand by roaming the streets.
My morning runs have taken me to, quite literally, new heights. My most recent morning workouts have consisted of exploring Montmartre by working on finding just about every staircase and winding little cobble stone street that takes me up an incline. The other day I wound my way past Sacré Coeur (where running stairs has been absolutely kicking my butt), and instead roamed around one side and then the other. To the right, the streets that meet the steep staircases are lined with cafes, quirky stores, and a few cute salons de thé, as well as a boulangerie that is rated second best in Paris. The area can get a little sketchy after heading too far, so eventually I turned back and ran around the other side to the left of the church and into the surrounding neighborhood. If you’re in Paris, or planning on visiting, you absolutely must roam those little streets beyond the tourist section of Montmartre. I passed tiny art stores and galleries, sweet little cafes, the most beautiful Parisian houses, far enough back from the city to be just bridging on suburbia, and countless little old ladies chatting in the street, while men smoking cigarettes strolled past with their dogs.
When running down cobblestone streets starts to feel like I’m tearing my legs apart, I just run a mile in the opposite direction and take a few laps around the Tuileries where the people watching is good and the views of the monuments on all sides are better.
Living in this new area, while also reigniting my urge to explore the city, has made me fall madly in love with this place all over again. Every now and again I still look around, giggle to myself a little, and realize how lucky I am to live in such a magnificent place. This morning, as I sip my coffee, finishing up my breakfast of prosciutto with avocado and Brie, I don’t take anything for granted. As the sunlight pours in, inviting me out, I vow to go take in something new. Paris will always find new ways to captivate me.
The Transition Artist 