Hanging out in Dijon, the home of mustard (and for now me)

I have been thinking a lot lately about the choices we make and how they effect our lives. I am a firm believer that many of the things that happen and places we end up are because we have propelled ourselves forward in that direction. Sometimes I find myself somewhere, and find myself thinking "How on earth did I get here?" only to remember that I got here because thats where I put myself in life. I've had so many moment like this over my life. I remember when I first moved to Melbourne wondering why I had left my home and my boyfriends, to move to another state where I knew no one. Why was I there? Because I had chosen to be there! Something in me knew that packing up my life and moving it to a new city so I could become a pastry chef was the best thing for me at that time, and it was.

Today I had a similar experience as I got off a train into the cold misty air in a village out of Paris. I had no idea where I was, or what I was doing there. I had simply googled trains that would take me out of Paris and near the wine region that I vaguely remember an ex boyfriend who was a wine maker telling me about. This was not a lot to go on and when I arrived I felt very unsure as to what I was doing here. On the train we went through beautiful country that looked sunny and warm but the closer I got to my destination the colder it became. All the fields where white with frost and snow near the station, and when I got off the train I became quickly aware that I should not have just worn a short sleeve shirt, jeans and a jacket.

I checked into my accommodation which is a beautiful eco friendly little cottage in the middle of the town and went for a walk around. It was Sunday and nearly everything was closed. I was once again struck with the question of what I was doing here, but pushed on through the town, exploring and stopping for lunch.

The thing is, Paris made sense. Of course a pastry chef would go to Paris. Staying with backpackers made sense, even my little apartment near the Moulin Rouge made sense. Here however, in a freezing village in the middle of no where, alone, where no one spoke english made no sense. So what I had to do was trust. I had to put faith in myself that I had come here for a reason, and deep down I knew I had.

So many people in Paris have questioned me about traveling alone, and mostly I can brush it off by telling them I am just on an adventure. I know however that I came here for a reason. That workaholic, busy, social me, needed some time to process a few things. Maybe I just read 'Eat, Pray, Love' too many times, but taking myself away to a tiny village in France seemed like the perfect way to sort out my heart, and have time to think about some things I have been putting off for a long time.

So here I am. Walking around the freezing streets, that are just so beautiful, and just enjoying the fact that I am 25, and may never ever get to stay in a cottage alone in France. Who knows what life will bring next, or where I choose to go. So for now, I'm just going to enjoy having no responsibilities in the middle of nowhere, with just me.

On being alone in Paris.

Today a lady at a gallery stopped me so she could do a survey. She asked me a serious of questions about the exhibition I saw, where I came from and who I was traveling with. When I told her I was traveling alone, she sort of laughed like she thought it was odd. I felt confused by her reaction and wanted to stop her and tell her that everyone is alone. No matter if we are married, with children and surrounded by friends we are still alone. At the end of the day the only person we really 'have' is ourselves. I have just been actively participating in this whole 'being alone thing' by going to another country by myself. I think it is important to make peace with our singularity in the world and enjoy it.

Being alone I have learned is very different from being lonely. Over the past few days I have been in a tiny apartment in the city all by my self. I have slept alone, eating alone, drunk wine in restaurants alone, gone to bars alone, explored the streets alone, shopped alone, and danced alone. Being here may have been one of the most isolated experiences I have ever had, but at no point have I felt lonely. I felt empowered, because I became acutely aware that I was enough.

I also made a couple of friends in my week of being alone. There were not the usual sort, but I liked them all the same. A man in a patisserie taught me french each morning when I bought pastries, a girl in a cafe chatted with me as I ate, I sat with a guy at a show I went to and he gave me his Champagne, I even formed a strange relationship with the homeless man who hangs out on my street, wishing each other good morning and good night everyday.

Tomorrow I leave my little apartment, and soon the rest of my tip will be filled with people. The change will be lovely, but I will miss my time in Paris of being alone, but never lonely.

French lessons and Moulin Rouge

Today I just have a pretty lazy day in Paris. I understand that this city is full of culture and wonderful sights, many of which I have seen, but at the same time I am very much enjoying its simple pleasures. For the last two years I have worked two of the most exhausting and wonderful jobs of my life that have kept me so very busy I've hardly had time to just be. Often I would miss meals, or quickly eat while standing up. This has become the normal for me. A lot of my down time got taken up dating some wonderful (and not so wonderful) eccentric, and creative people, and although it was lovely, I am very much in need of some alone time. So this is exactly what I have been doing. I have done a lot of getting lost on the streets of paris but even more sitting in cafes writing for hours. In the first few days I got all the sights out of the way and then settled in to actually just live here. I feel like I'm making up for all the meals I missed and all the days that I spent at work when I should have been at home resting.

The area my little flat is in is so great. The more I explore the more amazing places I discover that I wish I knew about days ago. There are so many restaurants and bars that I want to go into. Apart from that I have been doing a lot of shopping, and even just a lot of relaxing in my little apartment, reading books and drinking wine. I thought that being in Paris alone might be lonely, but I meet people everywhere. The man at the pastry shop I go to every morning is teaching me how to say all the pastries, and last night when I went to dinner I chatted with the owner of the restaurant. Apart from this though its just nice to be here. My friends are always sending me funny photos and messages from back home, and this makes me so happy, know that this is what I will be going home to.

I am nearly towards the end of the writing project that I came here to do. Its been so lovely just to have the time to write without disturbance. Tonight however I'm off to see the Moulin Rouge! I'm pretty excited for it!

Eating snails

Today I'm off to see the Dali gallery. The main thing that I've been impressed with in my time in Paris has been my ability to find my way around. I totally have the metro sorted these days (sort of) and have been traveling all over the city without getting too lost at all. My biggest worry when I first got here was that I would spend my whole time having no clue where I am and not being able to ask for directions. So far this hasn't been a problem at all.

Yesterday I went on a walking food tour of the Right bank. We wondered round looking at markets and cheese stops, and then ended the tour with a tasting where we ate treats and drank a lot of wine before 11am.  After this I did a little bit of shopping. Everyone in Paris has beautiful black coats with fake fur collars, and I felt so very left out. I spent ages trying to decide the best design and carefully checked out all the coats of the girls I saw in the streets until I came up with my 'ideal coat' and then set about finding it. I doubt I'll take it off for a very long time. I walked down the street thinking to myself "look how Paris chic I am", and then tripped and nearly fell on the cobble stone sidewalk.

Last night I went out for dinner and had snails. They were delicious but I have a feeling that the herbs and butter they were smothered in was responsible for most of the taste. As a chef I've never had much of a problem with eating meat, as it has been a bit or a necessity when it comes to tasting and preparing different things. I always try to source ethical meat when I cook at home, going out of my way to find butchers that support local trade and that raise the animal in a kind way. So it has never bothered me. Snails however are my favourite bug. I know this sounds odd, but I really do like them. I once had an in joke with someone I dated about snails (its long and complicated so I wont bother going into it) and I always think of them every time I see a snail (yes I'm aware that this is very weirdly sentimental.) I felt a little bad eating these tiny little guys. I was also vaguely aware that I was the only girl in the restaurant covered in tattoos, eating snails alone, while writing in a notebook and drinking a lot of wine. Sometimes I get the feeling I could fit in in Paris very well. Other times not so much.

The street I'm living on I really love. I think its a little like the Fitzroy of Paris. There are lots of beautiful tiny shops everywhere down side alleys and a heap of bars that I have yet to discover. At night time restaurants fill the streets with their chairs facing out onto the walkway, while early in the morning stalls open up selling cheese, wine, bread, fish and fresh fruit. I have been walking up and down this street a couple of times a day to buy bread and berries and cakes.

I have an awful thing to admit. I have been buying one coffee a day from starbucks. I feel like its a really bad thing to do while you are in another country, and I really hate to support large chain stores in the hospitality industry..........but I am so very sick of drinking a short black everyday and just really really really wanted a soy latte. I wouldn't dare ask for this in a cafe, for fear of being kicked out!

Well I better run and go find the gallery. x

Paris and feminism

Today I've been thinking a lot about the stereotype of thin French women. I once read a poem about how as the French men get older, they get bigger from all the cheese and wine, but the women in contrast shrink, drinking mostly water and smoking cigarettes. The writer put forth the idea that the women were getting smaller simply to make room for the men. They shrunk to accommodate their needs. This poem stayed with me for a long time as I at times have shrunk under the pressure of what I believed it meant to be a woman. This can be seen in the way I never order more food than a man at a restaurant, often letting them make the decisions and talk in a higher voice when I feel unsure or intimidated. "You are just doing a girl thing," someone even accused me at one point on this trip, and the thing that I was in fact doing, was simply asking a practical and logical question. How has society twisted us so much that asking a question is given a negative connotation when it comes from a woman?

I hate that when a woman has needs, she becomes needy, when she is angry she is a bitch, and when she is decisive she is demanding. I hate that we can be made to loose our power for standing up for ourselves. It makes me question, why is society so uncomfortable with women being loud, wanting things, pushing boundaries, growing, and progressing. If everyone is so uncomfortable with the noise of a woman being authentic, maybe they should consider that they are simply insecure of being drowned out? I believe that we as women are more powerful than we let on, or allow ourselves to believe. That we are capable of anything. That we can run kitchens as well as men (if not better at times), read maps, navigate a metro system, live in a country where we don't speak the language alone, get our hearts devastatingly broken by people who don't deserve us, and still dust ourselves off and continue being brave and strong and independent and loud.

This is what Paris taught me today.

Goodnight Paris

So I'm finally in my little apartment in Paris. This was the part of the trip I was really looking forward to. I met some of the loveliest people in the backpackers, but knew at the same time that wasn't really what I came on this trip to do. I didn't travel half way around the world to drink too many cocktails in a dive bar, cram into a room of six people where the bed gives you such a sore hip you have a small limp, or have a romance with an Australian. I came here to spend some time writing, and just be. I wanted to sit in cafes and write for days. I wanted to process the last two years of my life, and how fast they went by. I wanted to look at all the things I achieved and feel proud of that, but also look back at all the things that made me sad, and I didn't have time too feel. I wanted to experience and celebrate all of those emotions, alone, in Paris.

So here I now am, in a beautiful building on the very top floor doing that. I am in a room with a kitchen, bed and shower that is smaller than just my bedroom back home. having a shower is such a weird experience when there is hardly room to move. Its nice to have hot water that lasts for more than a few minutes though. I feel quite at home in this tiny white room, and I feel that I will be happy here.

The area I've moved into is much nicer than I was before and for the first time on my trip here I feel very safe and secure being alone. This afternoon I went on a walk to find some lunch and ended up at a gourmet hotdog shop. The food was so good. I bought what I thought was a lemonade but ended up being lemon flavoured beer. It was weird and delicious.

All the restaurants here close at 3pm and dont reopen until 9pm. The wait between lunch and dinner is epic. Tonight I went for dinner, but my biggest problem here is that there is never enough space in my stomach for all the food I want to eat!

I went to a bar for a night cap after dinner and all the staff were so lovely to me and gave me a free desert. These are the perks of traveling alone.

After a bit of time in the apartment I've started to feel really at home. I think being in this tiny room is the happiest I have felt in Paris. Having some time alone reminds me of what I came here for, and I have been able to relax into the holiday a bit more. I spent a long time writing in cafes and restaurants tonight and did not at any point feel lonely, but just at peace, and sort of connected to the people around me.

Goodnight Paris.

Walking the streets of Paris.

Today I move to my little apartment in the city. Im really looking forward to it. Where I've been staying is just a little bit too far out of the city and I haven't really wanted to venture out at here at night without a friend. the streets are too dark and dirty. This hasn't been much of a problem though because I've been making so many friends. I'm yet to eat a dinner alone in Paris. Last night I met a lovely Australian guy who was traveling alone. We split a bottle of wine and made plans to go to the Louvre together later in the week.

Despite all the friends I've met the majority of my time during the day has been alone. Its interesting getting used to being so very alone. At times I've found it a little confronting but mostly I just shake myself out of any sense of melancholy by remembering that I'm in Paris!

Yesterday I went to the Notre Dame. I'm not sure what I was more impressed with, the beautiful building or the fact that I actually found it by following my map.

One of my main problems in being here has been not being able to eat enough food. One of my good friends always complains about me not getting through my meals at cafes and restaurants, but I have been trying so hard here. I went to lunch yesterday in a lovely little restaurant where I ate beef bourguignon. It was so farm and filling it cheered me up from wandering around in the cold for hours. I left the place full and content and very relaxed after a glass of wine. After that I did some writing in a little cafe. I beautiful french man asked me what I was doing and when I told him I was writing a book he said 'I wish you all the best of luck.' It was very sweet.

The city seems to wake up pretty late here, but I still cant get used to sleeping in. I'm getting in the habit of having a light breakfast of nutella and baguette, and then later eating another breakfast with a short black.

I think a lot of today will just be dedicated to getting to my new apartment and getting
used to the new area.