I left to Paris. By train. I miss Parisian air, ravaged people, and hats … Trocadero.

With my purse on the shoulder, the scarf gently hanging on my back and wearing the biggest sun glasses, I went to the city if light. I think about all the movies, songs, images and books referring to Paris. There are thousands – pastel or black and white – this is how I imagined everything about this beautiful European city.

Today I just write, walk, think and drink good coffee. I unwind and relax. My short red coffee awaits me. I miss it, I miss its scent…I miss the newspapers lying around and Luis – Mr. waiter and owner – who is over 60 years old, who remembered my name since the first day I entered his coffee shop: « Ooo, Oana, ca fait longtemps que je vous ai plus vu. On vous attendait ».

I miss the hats store. Most of them are vintage: worn by all sorts of people, tens or thousands of years ago. Each hat has its own story. The place and time when it was exposed are unique. There are so many mysteries hidden in these small objects… Scarves are next … and gloves. From the most expensive lace to the most cheaper silk – vivid colors, portraits, cities or just nature.

Paris is just the capital of France. It is also the capital of fashion, gastronomy, arts and romanticism. Street musicians are great; they fit into the decor and adapt their style. Painters you see in the grand squares make you thing of the great Parisian artists. Small and crowded restaurants make you feel like you belong. Being in a little hurry, the waiters only talk French. There is no other language for them. They don’t care if you are a French speaker or not. They keep talking and look deep into your eyes, something like: « What do you do in Paris if you don’t speak French? ».

Museums are amazing. You have to get here at least once in a life time. To endure queues, the cold and the heat outside (according to the season), to laugh, to take a lot of photos and to shoot at least once near the Eiffel Tower. Almost every time I passed there I saw a proposal. A big white cloth saying « Do you want to marry me? », either with chalk on asphalt, or just the man deeply in love screaming as loud as possible: « I want you for the rest of my life ».

This is Paris. I missed this excitement, I missed their marvelous grapes and nuts cheese, I missed staring while holding a glass of white wine, I missed the charming streets of this city. I can hardly wait to see if my opinion will be the same once more: most of the French men wear brown shoes, with lace, a little worn – Parisian style! The scarf is customary. No matter the color, size or material – it has to be there – from suits to jeans to dresses. A T- shirt and a scarf and you fit perfectly. Red lipstick, discrete make-up, the hair gently put in a loop, a couple of bracelets and that’s it – you may go – on the streets, on the alleys, visiting stores, museums and restaurants. You become one with the city and you fall in love with all that surrounds you, all that you can see and smell.

It energizes me, I am willing and enthusiastic and I get off the train: Bienvenue a Paris!

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