The first time I stepped foot on Parisian cobblestone it felt like a great remembering of a thousand different dreams, full of a desire that haunted me during sleepless nights. I felt it, the pure contentment wrenching my heart. Home… which we were a long way from by now but, somehow it felt like I’d just arrived after an eternity of being away.

The sun was pleasant that late Saturday afternoon as we got our first taste of the French air. It was tainted with a faint sweetness and carried the tender words of the native tongue in the gentle breeze down the bank of the River Seine. Cyclists, families, dogs all working in tandem with the local surroundings to create a bustling atmosphere. I remember vividly the awe on everyone’s faces as the Eiffel Tower welcomed us, before we set off on a boat trip down the Seine. The river-front was lined with Parisians bathing in the glowing rays, sharing lunches and jokes in a language I could only dream of being fluent in one day. The renowned Paris architecture engulfed us from all sides, planning in my head which building I was going to live in one day. However, this unfortunately concluded all our excursions for that day, as we headed to dinner and back to the hotel for some games before bed.

The following morning, we headed to the beautifully imposing Arc De Triomphe before crossing the street to the Champs-Élysées, where we explored the plethora of shops it had to offer us. We then made our way back to the Eiffel Tower, this time going up the towering structure, the wind growing ever faster and colder at our ascent. The views that were painted in front of us were breathtaking, the whole of Paris laid out for us like a map. Rows of streets, the bustle of life beneath us felt utterly surreal.

Moving on to the evening of the second day, we made our way through Montmartre, home to Sacré-Cœur ‘the sacred heart.’ Wow! For something so bewitching I was completely at a loss for words. From the intricate detail, the domed roofs and the pure magic that surrounded it, if the Eiffel Tower was surreal then this was something from my wildest dreams. The alleys of artists and cafés and souvenir shops felt like the most wonderful maze that I could get lost in forever, floating while the sea of people carried me on a wave through the narrow streets. This day felt perfect - well so I thought - until last minute as the familiar dark blanket of night surrounded us. We stopped at the Eiffel Tower, and it seriously felt like time stopped. Before any of us knew it, the monument was sparkling; the serenity I felt was inexplainable, everything around me in silence like I was in my own air-tight bubble. I don’t know about anyone else, but this was when I really knew achingly this is where I wanted to be, Where I wanted to spend my early adulthood, figuring out the world that still seems so incomprehensible and vast to my young mind.

Devastatingly, the coming of the morning meant we had reached our last day. Melancholy clung to me like a lifeline that morning as I tried to soak up every minuscule detail my mind could compute. We had one stop left. The Louvre. We never got to go inside, though, somehow a large glass triangle felt hard to say goodbye to. It sounds foolish to say it was hard looking around at everyone while we took one final group picture; I would have never considered speaking to most of these people here and I doubt we’ll speak much again, though I feel strangely connected to them. Like some invisible string all tying us back to one place: Paris.

Maisie Reid, Year 10