Sticking to the Plan is Hard
When I woke up on the second day, it was still raining, just like the first. I thought, “I’ve got so much to do today, starting with the Eiffel Tower in the morning…” and checked the weather app, which said the rain would stop around 11 AM. Since it was cold and I didn’t want to wander around in the rain, I went to a nearby cafe and ordered an espresso and a croissant.
When I stayed in France with my ex, I didn’t feel much of the romantic charm of the city. Instead, I constantly craved Asian food, so I frequented Chinese, Japanese, and Korean restaurants but rarely visited Parisian cafes or bakeries. This time, I decided to give it a shot, but the croissant wasn’t as special as I had hoped. It was a bit disappointing, though the cafe owner was kind.
Once the rain stopped, I made my way to the Eiffel Tower. In the past, I climbed it via the stairs, but this time, I wanted to take the elevator straight up to the second floor. I also wanted to buy some souvenirs and, most importantly, take the time to fully experience the Eiffel Tower alone.
Since it had just stopped raining, the tower was freezing cold, and there were plenty of aggressive street vendors. Ignoring them, I headed up to the top. The view was the same as it was, but this time, I was determined to rewrite my memories. This time, I took my time enjoying the panoramic views, visited the cafe for a cafe allonge, explored the gift shop to buy keychains and wine glasses, and spent over an hour at the top.
Originally, I had planned to visit the Eiffel Tower at 9 AM, stay until noon, then head to Île Saint-Louis, Sainte-Chapelle, and the Louvre Museum. But because I didn’t arrive at the Eiffel Tower until after 11 AM, I had no time for Île Saint-Louis or Sainte-Chapelle.
Although I was disappointed by how little time I had in France, I reminded myself that living in New York made it easy to return someday. I also believe that feeling a bit unsatisfied on a trip is essential—it gives you a reason to plan the next one. Or at least, that’s what I told myself to feel better.
Second Visit to the Louvre Museum
When I lived in France before, I stayed for over a month and had the luxury of time. I visited the Louvre, the Orangerie, the Orsay, and the Pompidou. But the truth is, I wasn’t very interested in art back then. Even now, I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but I’ve developed an appreciation for beauty and the sense of awe it inspires. I enjoy preserving that feeling and interpreting the artwork in my own way.
After leaving the Eiffel Tower, I hurried to the Louvre for my reservation. I walked through Paris with the speed and determination of a New Yorker, skipping lunch and grabbing a Snickers bar on the subway instead.
The last time I visited the Louvre, I didn’t stay long. While looking at sculptures with others in a gallery, an alarm went off, and everyone had to evacuate the museum. My ex and I decided to leave and never went back, as neither of us was particularly interested in art. For me, this visit to the Louvre felt like a first encounter.
The Louvre is vast—exploring it all in one day is nearly impossible. So, I turned to ChatGPT for help. I asked which artworks were must-sees and got a list for a 3–4 hour visit: Mona Lisa, The Coronation of Napoleon, Winged Victory of Samothrace, the Egyptian collection, Venus de Milo, and the Code of Hammurabi. I followed ChatGPT’s guidance since my time was limited.
At each stop, I took photos of the artwork and asked ChatGPT for interpretations. It offered insights and tips on how to appreciate the pieces, like observing the Mona Lisa’s gaze from different angles to see how it follows the viewer, or focusing on the Pope’s expression of powerlessness in The Coronation of Napoleon. When viewing Winged Victory of Samothrace, I was advised to notice the intricate details of the draped fabric that seemed to flow in the wind.
Without ChatGPT, I probably would have just thought, “Oh, that’s pretty,” and moved on. But this time, I felt like I had a meaningful experience.
One artwork that stood out to me was The Return of Marcus Sextus by Pierre-Narcisse Guérin (1774–1833). The emotional intensity in the painting struck me immediately. According to ChatGPT, this neoclassical piece depicts a tragic moment in Roman history. Marcus Sextus returns home after political exile to find that his wife has died and his daughter greets him in mourning. The painting’s themes of family, loss, and pain are powerfully conveyed. I zoomed in on the daughter’s face to capture the delicate brushstrokes that rendered her tear-streaked expression.
I didn’t manage to see the Code of Hammurabi because I got lost (and ran out of time), but I made it to Venus de Milo before leaving the museum around 6 PM.
Jazz Night In Paris
Whenever I travel, I make it a point to visit a jazz bar. I love jazz, and it’s a great way to experience the local vibe. During my trip to Tokyo, I visited Blue Note Tokyo (the audience was so quiet, which made for a uniquely immersive experience). When I came to New York in 2023, I went to Blue Note NYC, Dizzy’s Club, Mezzrow, and Smalls Jazz Club.
Given Paris’s reputation for jazz, I couldn’t miss the chance to visit a jazz bar, even with only three days in the city. Before leaving New York, I made a reservation at a place called Sunset Sunside. I didn’t have high expectations, but the performance turned out to be incredible. The musicians’ chemistry and their genuine enjoyment of the moment were palpable, even from the audience.
What stood out to me, as it often does in jazz bars, was the diverse age range of the crowd. It felt special to share that space as a traveler, enjoying the music together. The audience’s enthusiasm and respectful behavior added to the experience. At just 20 euros for a three-hour performance (including a break), I found myself thinking, If I lived in Paris, I’d probably come here every week.
I left the bar feeling completely satisfied and hurried back to my hotel, arriving shortly after midnight. Nearly running, I made it back safely. 😊
Lighnity 