An Evening In Paris

Paris is definitely a city filled with adventure.

Every building, every street, oozes with romance. All of the weathered books in every corner store, every tiny espresso on the patio, and each breath of Parisian air leaves you with longing. Romance or no romance, I knew I had to spend a night wandering a city famous for love. But I had a strange feeling I’d find something or someone. Paris has a funny way of doing that.


I ended up going out with two other girls in my hostel room. We talked of travels, life, and our shared love of anime as we took the metro across town. The sun was setting as we climbed up the steps and back into the busy streets of Paris. Notre Dame was crowned in a halo of orange.

The Latin Quarter comes alive as the moon rises. You can find anything there – there’s antique shops and art dealers, food from all over the world. There are street side crepes and hole-in-the-wall bars. We found a wonderful Japanese restaurant I would 10/10 recommend. I could live off ramen and be perfectly content.




The sun was setting as we stepped back out into the chilly evening air. It’s pretty easy to navigate Paris without a map – follow the river and sooner or later you’ll end up on the other side of town. Walking from the Latin Quarter to the Eiffel Tower takes about 45 minute to an hour, depending on how often the amazing Parisian sights distract you. We got distracted a lot.

By sunset, the street venders along the Seine will have closed. The gothic electric lamps along the water flicker. Boats ripple along, sparkling reflections dancing. At Point Neuf, a group of musicians on drums jam to impromptu reggae. The Louvre stands tall and majestic. Over the trees is the ferris wheel in the Place de la Concorde. It shines a patriotic blue, white, and red. Beautiful brides in billowing gowns and dapper grooms pose lovingly against the twilight sky.



After the Louvre, we stopped to take in the glorious Pont Alexandre III bridge. Day or night, it’s always a great place for a photo op.

The Eiffel Tower sparkles on the hour starting at sunset. We waited for 12am to roll around, dodging persistent venders and founding a rat digging around in a trash can that my friend rightly named Remy. I don’t think he knew how to cook.

Paris isn’t called the City of Lights for without fair reason.

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