It’s an endless talking when Paris is the subject.
Learnt the language since elementary school, had the visa stamped on the passport in 1994, but chicken pox stopped the plan. Happily spent three years studying the language after long office hours, even took the international exam in french DELF (like IELTS/TOEFL) although just passed miserably for B1 level, thinking mastering the language would take the step closer to this city.
There were times when checking the ticket price was the most enjoyable guilty pleasure. Opened several tabs from several airlines just to see how much it would be to go there.
It was a long road to finally set these feet in this city and it came with such an expensive price, literally and unliterally.
Seven days spent here was truly an exceed expectation experience. When most people had unpleasant experience with this lady, je n’ai souvient d’aucun.
The kind metro officer who taught how to use the machine to buy the bus ticket, the tall cashier at small supermarche kindly helped changing the money into coins, the old lady who friendly chatted during the queue in Monoprix, the ladies in the bus who looked at Langit nicely and played peek a boo, the unfriendly-look Louvre guard who showed us the door to skip the long queue, that tiny and chaos apartment in non-touristy Boulevard Saint Germaine found in the very last minutes before departure, the street which felt like a fashion spread where those chic and stylish Parisiens made a beautiful sight to the eyes, lovely weather and beautiful colors, I didn’t know spending seven days in a city could be this happier. Or maybe that was the price after those long waiting years.
Quoting From Elizabeth Speare, The Witch of Blackbird Pond :
“After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth… The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her .. “In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible.”
There are always something about 25th October.
It was the departure date when the three big dreams were set in 2003.
It was the day of Wukuf in Arafah in 2012 when the second dreams checked.
It was the date printed on a boarding pass when the third and longest dream accomplished in 2016.
25 October is always be a reminder that dreams do come true and it would take a long journey until you arrive at the final destination.
It’s also a reminder there were no single thing as a coincidence in life. The invisible hand arranged everything to the smallest detail for all things happened in life.
But, worry not, He fulfilled all dreams without exception.