After sitting on the window sill for hours, drinking coffee and watching the raindrops hit the glass and fly with the storm outside, I finally wrapped myself up and went outside. The RER ride from Versailles to Paris was a sociology lesson on its own and I sucked up all multicultural impressions and scraps of conversation into mental photographs and sound recordings every second on board.

Since I usually don't have a plan when I visit a city for the first time (at least for the first time in a decade), I stuck to my routine and got out just somewhere to see what might happen. Randomly I landed at St. Michel, probably one of the only places in Paris I instantly recognized when I went up the stairs from the métro, because I had been here before at least twice.

I strolled around and found the most impressive figure of the whole trip at first sight right next to Île de la Cité: An old lady with braided white hair, a fabulous white coat and leg-breaking white high heels. Like a ghost from ancient times, she took her path through tourists and street merchants, and I could only snap her back before she disappeared in the crowd.

I accidently passed Shakespeare & Company, where Hemingway met Sylvia Beach in 1922. Sometimes reading books can serve better than a lonely planet.

Facing crowds, I'm scared to death, so I only took a glimpse of Notre Dames, passed la Fontaine St. Michel quickly and jumped back into the métro system, walking long tunnels, taking long escalators, watching people passing by. I also bought a checked umbrella for two Euros which flipped over right when I took a step on the street.

At Gare du Nord, I saw countless fare-wells and welcome-backs, helped an old lady up the stairway and left as fast as I came, taking the métro to Château Rouge. I walked up Montmartre from the backdoor, took a quick snap of tourists watching the skyline, danced in the rain and haunted pidgeons in front of Sacre Coeur, took a loop down the hill through less crowded backstreets and ended up in front of a mass of Marilyns letting their hair and skirts (and their umbrellas!) fly in front of Moulin Rouge on Boulevard de Clichy.

I walked all around le Cimetière du Montmartre just to realize the entrance had been right next to my origin and to finally find the gate closed. Even better, I tried to hide from the rain, soaked, in a building entrance and saw some most photogenic Parisians and their dogs trying to escape the beastly weather.

On my way back home to Versailles I decided that even I had to see le Tour Eiffel, at least at 10pm, in splashing rain and storm. I stood in a huge puddle for an hour being fascinated by the world and its extras, not wanting to leave. But I did, eventually.

In Versailles I bought cheese and wine in one of the late night shops and sat on the window sill again. After a very long, cold and wet day, I fell into a deep sleep.


Girl waiting at the RER station.


First signs of Paris from the train.


Tourists and Parisians in the train.


Notre Dames.


The white ghost.


Boy posing in front of la Fontaine St. Michel.


Guy sleeping in the métro.


Storm in the metro tunnels.


A caring mom on a métro escalator.


Trains passing by.


Gare du Nord.


Shop window in a backstreet of Montmartre.


Lovers taking photos.


Paris from above.


Pigeon in Montmartre.


Boys exploring a hole in the wall.


At Moulin Rouge.


Boy posing in front of Moulin Rouge.


Cimetière du Montmartre from the bridge at Rue Colaincourt.


Sofisticated dog on Boulevard de Clichy.


Soldier guarding Champ du Mars.


Couple watching the Tour Eiffel in the rain.


Sinking fair at Pont d'léna


Tour Eiffel in the rain.


Couple looking for a cab at Quai Branly.


Late night pedestrians in Versailles.

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

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