It had been a really long, wine-filled day. I had explored vineyards and wineries, from the extremely famous (read: expensive – Moet or Dom Pérignon anyone?), to the quaint, family-owned. I’d tasted, sampled, drunk, my way through some 18 different places. In one day. I’d also been unable to resist one of the families I’d bonded particularly well with, who insisted I take a complementary bottle for the train-journey back to Paris. (Who could say no to that?!)
I finally arrived back in the city around 7pm. Because I had been out all day and was feeling particularly…adventurous, I decided to grab a meal to go (7$ risotto – a positive steal in the City of Lights), and meandered down to watch the lights sparkle at the Eiffel Tower.
There is no better vantage point to do this than the Place de Trocadero. Unfortunately, this is not a well-kept secret, and you will share the beauty with every tourist in town, as well as a large smattering of hawkers selling cheap bracelets, and touristy souvenirs. If you can find your way, follow the path down the park towards the tower. There is a lower level and a park level. While they won’t provide the high-up vantage point of the large area, you also won’t have to fight to have a front-row glimpse of the show. There are also more locals, less tourists, and very rarely any souvenir sellers.
On this night, as I was fighting my way to the front, I happened to hear music. As I’ve said before, following the music in just about any travel situation will reward you well, and following my own advice, I did just that.
This exploring took me down to the lower level, and sitting on a bench, were two particularly good-looking and talented guitar players. Embracing the unknown, I sat down to wait for the lights, listen to music, and of course, drink my wine. As I’ve learned, a fold-a-cup in a day bag is a very important step above drinking from a bottle, or is also a great way to share to make excellent travel friendships.
Probably due in part to my proximity to the guitar players, my wine touring/tasting that day, or just the perfect evening of music, wine and Paris, but I caught the eye of one of the guitarists and with the universal sign for ‘join us?’ I made my way over and we shared the bottle of wine.
Eventually, I picked up the guitar and with a boldness only wine, handsome French men, and a sparklingly romanic Paris night could give, I proceeded to strum, and then improvise a song, in French, for my new friends.
I wish I could say the evening ended with a romantic meander through the streets, or a promise to meet another day. But instead, it ended as abruptly as it started. After the lights started to sparkle, our quiet spot was soon swallowed up by others discovering our magical, previously untouched view. Our amazing 10 minutes together became what the artists, musicians and poets have written about for hundreds of years. At least we’ll always have Paris…
…and a great story to tell later :).
Leave a Reply