The Last Time I Saw Paris (Or: "Part Five")


*For the past few weeks, I've been posting sporadically about my trip to Paris last December. Here is the final installment, and I am seriously considering a donations button to my homepage, so that the loyal readers out there who like me, care about my well-being, and would like nothing more than to see me become the proud owner of an authentic Louis Vuitton Paris bag, can give towards a plane ticket and accommodation...


On our last morning in Paris, I wished so hard that I could just stay. After seeing that there is an entirely different way of life that I could be adapting to- a new culture, and new possibilities for life- I couldn’t really get myself to leave it behind.

We went to the markets in the streets around the Eiffel Tower, where I finally got a new bag, and my dad snapped this picture of me while I wasn’t looking:

Candid snaps #FTW. (And I'm not just saying that because he got my good side...)

 I hate that he’s always stalking us with the camera, but I actually really like this picture. I feel like it captured some type of moment or memory that I wouldn’t have known I was having, had I not seen the picture. A sort of “this is how I felt on my last morning in one of the world’s most famous and exciting cities” moment.
It makes sense in my head.

Before the markets, we had our last hoorah at MuseeGrevin, the wax museum.
There were statues of French politicians, international sports stars, famous actors, and a lot of icons from modern history, like the Impressionists and Joan of Arc, and intelligentsia who made significant contributions to society, like Jean-Paul Sartre.

The museum is where I was most enthusiastic for pictures. I felt silly in a lot of them, but it wasn’t like I’d be getting this opportunity again very soon, so I just let the excitement take me where it would.
Here are the results: 


Me with Naomi Campbell; Brad Pitt (that's my "I still don't understand why you grew your hair" look); George Clooney; and Shahrukh Khan.

Listening to Sartre; Busi jamming with Sir Elton John, and then chilling with the Impressionists; my aunt on Jean Paul Gaultier's arm.

The museum provides props, for visitors who want to literally step into the scenes from history; you could never ordinarily mess with a musician's 'fro like that!; Joan of Arc; uncle Ray Charles.

Being in Paris with my family really was quite an experience. Not necessarily life-changing, but it definitely did mark a phase in my life. Until next time.




*See some of the things I brought home with me from the markets over there in an upcoming post.




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