February 10, 2010 9:48 AM GMT +07:00

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A series of misfortunes to prove one's love of Paris

Posted by Atiya Achakulwisut

They say Paris does not love everyone. And I wonder what kind of people should Paris love.

From my first landing in the romantic heartland more than a decade ago, I have loved Paris. I adored the Louvre, the light that filtered down the cavernous Musee d'Orsay, the sumptuous croque-monsieur, even the rough, irregular cobble stones that formed intricate patterns on Paris's streets.

When I had a chance to return to Paris last week, however, I found some tough sides to the loveable city. It began on the very first day. After some 12-hour flight, I arrived at the hotel early in the morning to be told there would be no hot water until 11:30am.

"It's not our fault. It affects the whole district,'' a hotel staff said, apparently as a reassuring gesture.

The sogginess of autumn, grey sky and drizzle did not help the mood. The next day, I flew south to Montpelier, where they say the sun always shines and the weather is much warmer than in Paris. Guess what? The plane descended down into thick banks of rain clouds. ``The storm is coming,'' a local told me, a scuba mask in his hand. ``It's very rare here. I was still swimming in the sea yesterday,'' he said, again probably as a reassuring attempt.

After viewing wind-swept vineyards in the rain, I went back to the airport to go back to Paris. ``The flight was cancelled,'' the check-in staff promptly told me. Luckily I didn't have to stay overnight. I only had to go back to watching the rain-splattered glass wall of Montpelier airport for one more hour.

Back to Paris, I found all the big museums I so loved were all crowded. Long lines at the Louvre. Longer queues at Musee d'Orsay. It's disappointing not to be able to revisit these places as I always thought there must be so many corners of the Louvre that I have never seen. It would have been, well, reassuring somehow to go back and stand at the same place I used to at the d'Orsay and appreciate its elegant beauty. Anyway, I decided to trek out of the city center and try the smaller Musee Picasso. It was a rainy day and the roads in Le Marais were small and circuitous. My coat was wet and my hair plastered to my face when I arrived at a pair of completely closed doors. The museum is closed for repair until 2012.

At that time, I began to think that perhaps Paris no longer loves me. The next day, however, I gathered the spirit and walked a few blocks to the closest museum, one for Rodin.

It turned out to be a totally lovely hotel-cum-museum, with a vast garden where masterpieces as The Thinker, The Gates of Hell or The Burghers of Calais were on display. Inside was an impressive -- the largest actually -- collection of works on which Rodin's powerful touches were evident. I was moved when looking closely at such well-known pieces as The Kiss, The Age of Bronze or The Walking Man and lesser-known ones as The Sound of Farewell and Camille Claudale busts and sketches.

I fell in love with Paris again after the museum visit. Looking back, I suppose what they said is probably true -- that Paris doesn't love everyone. But if you are flexible enough, open-minded enough and show your willingness to adapt to circumstances, Paris will yield her love to you, even if it's a tough one.


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