And so you think I swooned and fell in Love with the City of Love at first sight!
How could I when it was 0 degrees when I landed?
And so you know, I’m an equatorial baby –
So it wasn’t exactly the perfect midsummer night dream for me.
As I ambled by through the straight and narrow gates, boy what a sneering and Louis Vuitton strong accent met me at hallowed immigration gates!
The fellas eyes, and his beaked nose (am from Africa – mine a perfect round! ), looked like he had spent the night drinking Caribbean Rum.
I guess the word Monsieur is always polite and makes you feel exquisite – even when you are not welcome.
Well, on my way to ‘sortie’ a smiley African bloke greets me… he must have smelt I was from the motherland, and what a better way to help a brother.
Oui. I said – perhaps the only French word I know in the whole French dictionary
Well, he must be from Senegal…or one of our neighbours back home, or so I thought.
My hopes for conversation were shortlived though, as we hit a dead end in my few attempts once we were in the cab – language barrier real or feigned.
Anyway, what did I care? I was in famous Paris after all – and I was about to swoon and be swept off my feet with all va va voom and vibe of this renowned city.
Mmh, my dreamy train was interrupted not long after we had gone under the lit tunnel.
My mind was still pre-occupied with all imaginings, drinking Champagne, as we cruised along the Seine, going up the Eiffel Tower….
Excusez moi, monsieur, billet….
It was time to pay my cab bill, and I was feeling really good that, and even feeling that I would give him a tip.
Well, this time I swooned, actually almost!
Merci Monsieur, Bienvenue à Paris!…. he said as he drove off.
What could I say, I had exactly not fallen in love, at least not yet. But yeah, all for love I had paid so dearly…..
To be continued