Paris Day 1: Human Spinning Top

On my first morning I found that the jet lag had worked for me, not against me. I woke up at 5am which was great because I could enjoy the sunrise and gradual lighting of my neighbouring rooftops.

 

What I hadn’t expected was to experience an intense form of vertigo or constant dizziness…not like car sickness, but one where I could almost physically still feel the bumps and falls of having been in the airplane during the 23hrs of turbulence. It felt as if the ground kept dropping from under my feet as I’d go to take a step. Then as if the room was slowly spinning…. even whilst i was lying down… it was extremely unsettling.

I was hungry but too dizzy to go downstairs and across the path to the super marche… luckily the landlord had left some supplies in the fridge, perhaps from the previous visitors so i had some tea, ice cream, almond biscuits and then decided to take it easy the rest of the day and sleep, watch tv, sleep…gaze out the window…sleep. So I took a bath and then lazed the day away, thinking what a luxury it was to do that in Paris, and thank God I was there for a month.

 

the supermarket downstairs, so near yet so far

Ironically, I could not have been dizzier nor with more vertigo than at this moment, and my bed was in a position where there was no wall to stop me from rolling out and down to the first level. Fortunately that didn’t happen.

I unpacked my luggage, cleaned the bathroom, kitchen and everything else I could (including staircase).

For a mother who is used to cleaning and tidying up and then 15min later everything being a complete disaster and mess from the boys “living” and “playing” and “eating” …. there was a strange satisfaction that I could gained from cleaning it to my standard and then seeing how long it could STAY clean.

I polished  everything that was wooden surface with the wooden surface cleaner too … yeah I know a tad  ocd but afterward there was very little cleaning to be done the rest of the month…and my oh my that felt soooo good!!

 

the now clean staircase and pole

.

the bathroom is on the right next to the tv

My only issue with the apartment was the closet space, which was in the bathroom. The idea of my clothes dampening with the humidity did not please me. Instead of using that, I improvised a wardrobe area by hanging my clothes on hangers off the window pulling thingy and made it like a little curtained area. The plan was to be able to enjoy the garments I’d buy throughout the course of my stay and from my bed be able to visually enjoy them.

Little did I know that dresses would not be the only thing I’d display and that a month later ‘d have a shoe fetish in full swing!

For my first evening I planned to make a home cooked dinner and had brought some recipes from my own kitchen in Melbourne, complete with shopping lists per recipe.

Eventually I braced myself and went across to the super marche …struggled to find the items due to the dizziness. I couldn’t focus on what was in front of me. It was as if I was heavily drunk only I’ve never been drunk, at most tipsy on one glass of sav blanc. I carried the groceries up six flights of stairs, back to the apartment.

 I scratched my plan to make a dessert and was disappointed with myself. What is a tourist doing making dessert in Paris I hear you ask. But remember I was up in my 6th floor tower for who knows how long.. and a girl needs something sweet.  Anyway, I couldn’t focus on reading the simple instructions  and only made some pasta. It was the most difficult meal I’d ever prepared.

 

By now it had been 48hrs of this incessant dizziness and it was starting to really worry and annoy me. I ended the worry and annoyance with sleep,  hoping that upon waking, my sense of balance would be restored.

boring tv program about ships

 

The next day, my only amusement other than the tv which was quite boring, was the guy on the balcony opposite me. He was such a dedicated sun lover! He’d eat breakfast on his balcony, read papers there, eat lunch and then siesta later on. I’m no Alfred Hitchcock, but since I wasnt moving from my bed, I became fascinated.  His wife would go there to talk to him.  When his grandkids visited him, they went to the balcony to be with him. When he finished talking to them, they would go back inside, he would stay on the balcony

mr. Le Tan

 

In Australia, even in the summertime and with tons more space to lounge, I would never spend time in the sun. I’ve already had a basal cel carcinoma removed so no sun baking for me.

Could it be that in Paris, even the sun was more gentle? or are their sunblocks superior?Unresolved French mysteries..note to self, investigate!