I live in the 11th arrondissement, an area where a large majority of the atrocities occurred. I was home on Friday night, I walked in my door at about 8:30pm, not knowing that in less than an hour the city would be attacked. I made my dinner, sat down to watch a movie and my phone buzzed. It was a harried message from a friend, asking where I was, was I home, and telling me not to leave the house and to check the news. Not an ideal message to receive on a Friday night, or any time really. I went to the BBC's website, hearing in the background what I thought were the usual Friday night in Paris sirens going past. But I soon realised they weren't ordinary. As I read the news, like people all over the globe were, my hear sunk and I sat in disbelief. These poor people. How could anyone do these things, to open fire on human beings having dinner, having a drink in a bar, watching a football match or listening to some live music. These things were happening in my neighbourhood. In the bars and restaurants I walk past, streets away from me. To people I share the metro with. To people I pass on the street everyday. I clicked play on the BBC news video, and just watched.
Now, I am in the extremely fortunate position that I was completely safe, and no-one I know was hurt or had any loved ones involved. A friend who was coming to stay with me cancelled her trip, but in the scheme of things that wasn't the worse thing that could have happened to me that day. To all those people who weren't so lucky, I am thinking of you, and your families and so is France and the rest of the world.
I spent Saturday indoors, glued to the news, feeling quite trapped but too afraid to leave the house. I dashed to the supermarket in the evening, but I walked very fast, kept my head down, and was scared the entire time. Exactly how the terrorists want people to feel.
This morning, Sunday, I didn't want to be stuck in my room, I wanted to be out on the streets and see some people. So, I went for my usual walk along Boulevard Richard-Lenoir / Boulevard Voltaire. I knew the Bataclan, where the hostages were taken on Friday night, was on this street, but thought it was much further up. As it turns out, it is much closer to me. I very soon walked into a large crowd of people, taking photos, carrying flowers. 10 or so news vans were parked there, and dozens of journalists with their camera crew were camped out. It was very quiet considering how many people were there. I stood and watched for a few minutes, then turned around and came home. The florists I walked past were full of people.
I know that my experience was extremely easy to get through in comparison to others. I have no idea what it was like to be in those bars, in the Bataclan music venue. I'm still a bit scared though. I will feel like that for the next few weeks, so will most Parisians, and others in cities all over Europe. But the feeling will go away. The sun will keep shining.
I thought publishing the first post of my travel blog set in Paris would be an awkward or a even slightly disrespectful thing to do today. But it's not. It's the perfect thing to do. To showcase this fantastic city, celebrate its food, its museums, its open gardens, its monuments, and its people. To encourage its citizens and its visitors to get out into the streets, not to shy away, and to prove to anyone who thinks they can destroy this world that they are wrong.
Lighter programming to follow.
Annie xx
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