London is so grey right now, as though mimicking my feelings towards being ill and back to the working routine after a weekend in Paris. That's not to say that Paris wasn't grey because it was, and it included rain, but even when the weather is miserable there it's hard to let it reflect onto your feelings. Maybe it's just me but I find it virtually impossible to be miserable in Paris, even when I'm waiting for the Eurostar back home. I think a person can easily be sad in Paris, in a dramatic black-and-white-film kind of way, but even when it's raining and there is a minimal amount of light in the sky, something reminds you that you're next to the Seine and you can probably see the Eiffel Tower somewhere.
Despite being slightly bias because I am obviously a fan of Paris, if that's what you would call it, my weekend was also cheered up by the fact I was asked for directions three times, and in French. So either I look French, if that is a look, or I'm pulling off looking like I know what I'm doing and where I'm going. Which is all completely pretend. I'm as clueless as the next eighteen year old on their gap year.
I did discover a couple of things, which just heightened my love for the place, whilst I was there sauntering around the autumnal scenery for three days. Firstly, you can carry a book around, and read literally anywhere and no one thinks twice about it. Normally I would have a giant bag to hide any hint of the leisurely activities I intend to do in a day, such as writing, reading or taking photos. Or maybe that is more a personal confidence issue that I just so happen to lose when abroad. Secondly, it is perfectly acceptable to eat plain baguette bread outside of your house. This seems like something you should be able to do anywhere, but from my experience, eating the end of a baguette on your way home from work draws in a couple of confused, clearly-never-been-to-France stares. But not in Paris.
Returning from this trip, I was not only immensely excited to go back sometime soon, but I also got my roll of film developed on that same day. Due to being there by myself, none of the photos really contained personal moments of interaction but they still maintain a sentimentality to them. Mostly because the autumn light that runs through the pictures was so beautiful, and in a way reminded me that it is possible to enjoy being alone, wandering through exhibitions, without feeling lonely and grey.
G.
Photos by Georgia Stead
London is so grey right now, as though mimicking my feelings towards being ill and back to the working routine after a weekend in Paris. That's not to say that Paris wasn't grey because it was, and it included rain, but even when the weather is miserable there it's hard to let it reflect onto your feelings. Maybe it's just me but I find it virtually impossible to be miserable in Paris, even when I'm waiting for the Eurostar back home. I think a person can easily be sad in Paris, in a dramatic black-and-white-film kind of way, but even when it's raining and there is a minimal amount of light in the sky, something reminds you that you're next to the Seine and you can probably see the Eiffel Tower somewhere.
Despite being slightly bias because I am obviously a fan of Paris, if that's what you would call it, my weekend was also cheered up by the fact I was asked for directions three times, and in French. So either I look French, if that is a look, or I'm pulling off looking like I know what I'm doing and where I'm going. Which is all completely pretend. I'm as clueless as the next eighteen year old on their gap year.
I did discover a couple of things, which just heightened my love for the place, whilst I was there sauntering around the autumnal scenery for three days. Firstly, you can carry a book around, and read literally anywhere and no one thinks twice about it. Normally I would have a giant bag to hide any hint of the leisurely activities I intend to do in a day, such as writing, reading or taking photos. Or maybe that is more a personal confidence issue that I just so happen to lose when abroad. Secondly, it is perfectly acceptable to eat plain baguette bread outside of your house. This seems like something you should be able to do anywhere, but from my experience, eating the end of a baguette on your way home from work draws in a couple of confused, clearly-never-been-to-France stares. But not in Paris.
Returning from this trip, I was not only immensely excited to go back sometime soon, but I also got my roll of film developed on that same day. Due to being there by myself, none of the photos really contained personal moments of interaction but they still maintain a sentimentality to them. Mostly because the autumn light that runs through the pictures was so beautiful, and in a way reminded me that it is possible to enjoy being alone, wandering through exhibitions, without feeling lonely and grey.
G.
Photos by Georgia Stead
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Tuesday 14 November 2017
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Photography /
Travel
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