One Trip, Endless Memories: Siddharth’s Thrillophilia Review of a Trip to Paris
It started with a delightful fragrance- a warm breeze carrying the aroma of freshly baked croissants mingled with the faintest hint of roasted chestnuts. Before I even saw the city, I could feel it…
Paris was in the air.
When my wife and I stepped out of the airport on the morning of December 5, 2024, it was not the grandeur of the Eiffel Tower or the promise of the Louvre that struck me first. It was the rhythm of life itself. A man on a bicycle moved past, balancing a baguette under his arm. Two elderly women, elegantly dressed, chattered animatedly outside a café. A musician played a soft tune on his violin and seemed lost in his own world.
“This city already feels alive,” my wife murmured, slipping her hand into mine.
This trip was a beautiful chance to immerse ourselves in a world that had inspired poets, artists, and dreamers for centuries. A world we were about to make our own.
Walk Through Time on the Streets of Montmartre
The moment we stepped into Paris, the city embraced us in its wintery charm. The crisp December air carried the scent of fresh pastries as we made our way to our hotel. Though exhausted from the journey, we could not resist stepping out to explore.
Montmartre was our first stop, a neighbourhood that felt like an artist’s dream. Cobblestone streets wound around charming cafés, musicians played soft melodies on street corners, and painters captured fleeting moments on their canvases. The entire place had an energy that was both vibrant and timeless.
At Place du Tertre, an elderly artist with years of Paris etched into his face offered to sketch us. “A memory you can take home,” he said in a thick French accent. As he worked, my wife and I sat in comfortable silence and watched the world go by. The finished portrait was simple and imperfect yet full of life. It became the first of many souvenirs we would cherish from this trip.
That evening, standing on the steps of the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, we watched the sun dip behind the Parisian skyline. The city stretched endlessly before us, and golden rooftops merged into a soft purple horizon.
Living a Parisian Dream from the Eiffel Tower to the Seine
The next morning, Paris unfolded before us in a way I had never imagined. The grandeur of the Place Vendôme, the artistic soul of Musée d’Orsay, the elegance of the Pont Alexandre III - every corner whispered stories of the past.
But nothing prepared me for the moment we stood beneath the Eiffel Tower. As a child, I had seen its image a hundred times, but standing there in its shadow was something else entirely. The iron structure, both strong and delicate, seemed to breathe history.
We took the elevator up to the second level, and the city spread beneath us like an artist’s masterpiece. My wife gripped my hand, and her face was glowing with excitement. “It is even more beautiful than I imagined,” she whispered.
Later, we boarded a boat for the Seine River cruise. As we glided past the illuminated Notre Dame and the Louvre, I realised why Paris was called the city of love. There was something magical about floating under its bridges while the reflections of golden lights danced on the water—the cold air bit at our skin, but the warmth of the moment made up for it.
A Day of Magic and Nostalgia in Disneyland Paris
The third day was a childhood dream come to life. We stepped into Disneyland, where fairy tales and reality blurred. Despite my wife’s usually composed nature, she yelled in excitement as we saw Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.
We rode Hyperspace Mountain, screamed on the Big Thunder Mountain, and laughed like kids on the spinning teacups. But the real magic happened in the evening. As we stood watching the fireworks explode above the castle, I saw my wife wipe away a tear.
“You okay?” I asked, squeezing her hand.
She nodded, smiling. “It just reminds me of when I was a kid. I never thought I would see this in real life.”
At that moment, I realised travel is all about rediscovering parts of yourself you thought you had forgotten.
Parting with Paris, But Not With Its Magic
On our last morning in Paris, I stared out of our hotel window and watched the city wake up. The early morning hush was interrupted only by the sound of distant footsteps and the clinking of cups from a nearby café. It was strange - how a place that had once been a distant dream now felt like home.
As our train to Munich pulled away, I knew this was not the end. Paris has given us stories to carry in our hearts - stories of art, love, and unexpected moments.
And just like the echoes of a beautiful melody, the essence of some places lingers on with you.
Read More:
Thrillophilia Paris Reviews