I wasn't expecting to travel all day by rail to get to Paris from, but the rail system complexities got the best of me. However, I enjoyed the hours through the beautiful hillsides, little towns, and farmlands.
I had a couple hours at Köln, Germany. To my luck, there was a enormous cathedreal right next to the train station.
. I felt not as solemn as I thought I should be because I couldn't stop smiling at the majestic interiors. I was not prepared for the opportunity to enter such a grand space.
After a mediating in the silence of the church, I felt grounded by the awesomeness of the space. In art history classes, I always learned of how the interior of this great gothic and neogothic churches and basilicas were designed for the transcendent feelings. Indeed I felt elevated and humbled.
Having 6 transfers in total, I cannot point out when the language I was hearing switched from German to French. The fluidity of switching nations and cultures cannot be experienced in the isolated States.
I travelled from Germany to Belgium to France into Paris.
Taking regional trains throughout gave me sights of the rural areas. The landscapes nonindicative of the country, but there were slight changes in building styles that I could recognize.
I arrived at the hostel in the north side of Paris at nightfall. 3 crammed bunk beds, a spacious bathroom with a great mini view of the Paris skyline.
To make use of the most of my night, I roamed around with no destination in mind. Cafes lined up the street packed with patrons sharing wine and smoking cigarettes. I escaped the beckoning calls of women when I unknowingly passed through the red light district. Street peddlers were selling lasers and tiny Eiffel tower trickets where tourist gathered. Patisserie workers were handing off baguettes and steaming crepes. The night sky glowed orange. Drunkards were singing and clapping. Bars were packed with football fans staring up at the game on the television.
To make use of the most of my night, I roamed around with no destination in mind. Cafes lined up the street packed with patrons sharing wine and smoking cigarettes. I escaped the beckoning calls of women when I unknowingly passed through the red light district. Street peddlers were selling lasers and tiny Eiffel tower trickets where tourist gathered. Patisserie workers were handing off baguettes and steaming crepes. The night sky glowed orange. Drunkards were singing and clapping. Bars were packed with football fans staring up at the game on the television.
I ended up at the Sacre Coeur Basilica. Located on the highest point of Paris, the church offered a stunning overlook. I spent some time inside and listened to the second half of an ongoing mass. Tuesday night, the priest only had me and a handful of others. In the vast space, I thought about how much I should be thankful about this trip, family, and life.
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