Finding our“illustrious” hotel Des Arenes was no sweat but coming to terms with the size of the room definitely was. The hotel room was so small that we marveled at the genius of wide angled cameras. The internet pictures had certainly not prepared us for these midget sized rooms. An exceptionally narrow hallway which accommodated only one person at a time led into a room which actually restricted the concurrent movement of 2 people. “Bienvenue a Paris”, said my husband gallantly as he tried to usher me into the room.
We, however, weren’t too bothered with the size of the room, as the hotel was located in the heart of the city near the festive Latin Quarters. By the time we freshened ourselves it was early evening. Not the ones to waste any time we put on our winter clothing and set out into the freezing Parisian street. As we stepped out of our hotel a strong gust of cold wind hit us and we were suddenly reminded that we had no gloves on.
Undeterred, we trudged along the street towards the subway, hand in hand like the perfect honeymoon couple. I was in a state of bliss, to be ambling in the most romantic city in the world along with the love of my life. I think the gods had conspired to give me a peek into heaven. Before taking a subway to the Eiffel tower I grabbed a quick bite at the local boulangerie. Why delay sampling the gastronomical delights of Paris?
By the time we disembarked at the station for Eiffel tower the sun was down and it had turned dark outside. The embankment area was lined with bare, ghostlike trees, giving the impression of being frozen in time. The street lights cast long shadows on the pavement, unsuccessfully trying to create an illusion of warmth. And suddenly, caught completely off-guard, we sighted the Eiffel tower. A vision in blue, shimmering against the night’s sky, assaulting our visual senses. We stood at a distance, staring mesmerised.
We took a lift to the top, excited like children. Atop the Eiffel tower, the city lay below us, bejeweled and glittering in its full glory. Being December, the sharp cold winds cut through us. However, I was completely unaware of the chill, conscious only of the city below me and the man beside me. Ours was a love marriage, so we were certainly no strangers to each other. Nonetheless, as his eyes arrested mine, we felt like we were playing parts in a movie, aware only of each other.
My husband wrapped me in his arms and leaned forward to kiss me softly on my lips. For that split moment in time, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. As our fingers entwined, the platinum rings that we had given to each other as a symbol of our eternal love and commitment, clinked softly.
That day, at that moment, entwined in an embrace, levitating over a shimmering Paris, I found my platinum day of love. A day that was pure like the fire that witnessed our union, rare like the devotion in his eyes and eternal like our love.
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