Je Suis Une Petite Valise Rouge

Paris, Je T'aime

Musée du Louvre

In Denmark, the school system is obsessed with teaching us other languages (and I love it!). So after having a base in Danish, then starting English in third grade, and German in sixth, I was able to choose an elective in seventh grade. It was between Latin and French, and I went with Français (and took Latin a couple of years later). 

I will admit my French class was more of a social gathering in the afternoon, watching French movies (the beginning of my die-hard love for Jean-Renó) and my teacher occasionally bringing pizza. I won't pretend I remember any French beside "Je suis une petite valise rouge" - I am a little red piece of luggage.

I visited Paris in November of 2010 for the first time since I was ten. My greatest memory from then was the Tigger boxers I bought at the Disney store on Champs-Élysées. This time, I wanted to explore all the beauty Paris had to offer - in the two days I was there. Touristy yet necessary, the Louvre was definitely one such beauty.

A peek into the Louvre

A couple of pieces of art struck me, the two below more so than the famed Mona Lisa. Perhaps because the Mona Lisa was protected by glass, a railing and guards, with flocks of people surrounding it, taking their souvenir photos (I did too) - but it prevented having a silent moment of observation and connection to the brush strokes, the composition, the meaning behind that brought it to life. Only a few truly captured me, and they are shown below.

How does this impact you?

The bravery of a woman

The Louvre, with the long lines, the flashing cameras, the mobs of people, was still a worthy visit. If only I could have walked the oaky grand halls past closing, listening to the whispers of voices past, their discussions on a world that had been, their criticisms and applause, and the tones of war and love exuding from the settings within the golden frames. 

And yet, some could find solstice within the walls of a plaza downtrodden with busy feet...

Amidst tourists rushing by with their cameras and pinned smiles, in a corner of the great Louvre, one man sat silently with a bowed head 

Je Suis Une Petite Valise Rouge: Part Deux

Un Café

Walk into a cafe in Paris and order un café, and you will get the smallest cup of coffee you have ever encountered (not unlike the tea set you had when you were three). Although surprised, and feeling kind of jipped, I sipped on my 2.40 Euro mouthful of concentrated caffeine, and found that I quite liked it; not leaving me with the feeling of an empty meal the way a venti Starbucks Mocha Coconut Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccino does. You end up not mindlessly annihilating a mass of sugary ice only to remember what you were consuming when you start inhaling air rather than caramel out of your straw. Rather, you sip and enjoy every mouthful of undisguised flavor. Great value often comes in compact packages.

Much beauty was observed on my second day, as I literally wore the soles off my boots wandering and exploring. 


In the middle of a small town, with broken concrete tiles, a carrousel lit up my eager childlike face. Sit back and take in the colours of Paris. 

Un Carrousel

In the heart of Paris

Old worldly; can you hear the tunes and the laughter?

With lips in awe and big, squinted eyes, I inhale the colours

Waterfall of pearls

Bon Soir, Paris