The corner of the living room at 21 Quai de Grenelle consisted of a small wooden table attached to the wall by the window that faced the Seine. Beside the makeshift desk, gold rayon drapes hung looped on a brass tie back. This is where I sat with my computer, battling the slow internet and a server that attempted to translate French websites into English.
I was in France for three weeks, escaping the holidays and creating new memories. My days and nights were filled with magic. I walked for hours marveling at the architecture, the art, and loosing myself in the streets of Paris. After late long dinners, I would walk pass the Eiffel Tower and return to my apartment, settling in to the corner of my room. I would turn on my computer write about my experiences. It was a joy to recall the places I had seen that day, and the people I had met in one of the world’s greatest cities.
However, the true joy was the miracle of the connection. Through the wires that powered my computer and joined me to the internet, I was one with my friends an ocean away. They would read my observations and admire my photographs. Through the words typed to me in their emails, I knew they were thinking of me and sharing my great adventure.
From the corner of my room in the tiny apartment on Quai de Grenelle, with its view of the Seine, the boats that floated by, and the lights that twinkled on the opposite shore, I had a window to entire world. My small corner desk was only large enough for my laptop and my coffee mug. Yet, with the internet connected, the walls of my room opened to my friends a half a globe away. It was my favorite place to be in the magical city of romance and light.