Leaving my absolute favourite city for good was quite possibly the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Sat on the metro (feeling like a pack horse who'd just been employed by a bourgeois antique collector who'd suddenly decided he wanted to move all his stuff from one side of France to the other - except the stuff in my bags wasn't quite as valuable) I felt something wet drip down my cheek - that's right - some rain water had fallen from the Dupleix track onto my head as the previous metro had rumbled past - typical.
As the last visions of Paris jerkily zoomed past, I began to reflect on all the good times. Thankfully Montparnasse is only a few stops down the line....
One thing I certainly won't miss is the parisian attitude. I was unfortunate enough to have an encounter with one such character in my dying seconds of Paris time. For there, upon the steps stood a hunky, yet menacing (he had a gun) soldier. Naively, (even after 3 years) I thought he may have offered a helping hand as I struggled not to land on my back whilst falling backwards with all my bags from the top step (on which the unhelpful git was standing). Of course he didn't - I suppose yawning and stretching must be an integral part of Sarkozy's training programme as I must say he did that awfully well...
The SNCF journey was OK - except for all the petitions I didn't sign that kept appearing under my nose - attached to which were young, eager French students (worse kind).
I have to admit - I was very upset upon leaving as I watched the last of the highrise buildings wizz past my window. Then, shortly after, something magical happened. Trees and green fields as far as the eye could see - a smile crept accross myself (in reflection it was more of a sprint than a crawl but 'crept' sounded better) and I do believe a little exclamation of glee escaped my lips as the reality hit me - I don't live in Paris anymore!!
No more being hassled by the "Do you speak English?" "Is this your ring, it's pure gold!" "I draw your portrait pretty lady?" and the most painful of them all "Bling bling, 2 euro." I can walk the side of the street without the fear of crazed old drunks brandishing empty wine bottles and best of all... peace and quiet will be possible!
Despite all of the above I am still filled with melancholy, now I know why. It's not because of Paris or University but it is because of you. My very good friends. You guys mean so much to me and I am so glad to have met you all.
The positive ending is thus : next time we meet it will be better, because it won't be in Paris! See what I did there?!
PS- It's difficult to spot but you may have noticed a tiny bit of artistic licence at the beginning.
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