The Saddest Day I Experienced in Paris
For the past three days now I’ve been struggling to find the right words to make this blogpost. Words can’t even begin to describe what I witnessed on Monday night and even three days after the tragedy I’m still speechless.
It’s been almost two years now since first I left my little seaside town in Ireland to pursue the beginning of my new life in Paris. I remember when I arrived at my first ever apartment in the city. It was in the latin quarter and just a ten minute walk from Notre-Dame. I was so blown away by the panoramic view of the Parisian rooftops from my top floor window and even more chuffed that Notre-Dame was only just around the corner from the tiny apartment.
Notre-Dame is a building that I consider myself so lucky to have been able to call my next-door neighbour for the time that I lived in Paris’ 5th arrondissement. This building was often the highlight of my day as I passed it going to and from college and knowing that one of the most beautiful architectural structures in the world was right in front of my doorstep everyday really filled my heart with so much appreciation and gratitude that I lived in Paris. Notre-Dame always felt like something that symbolised stability and eternalness in the city. To see it go up in flames felt so messed up because everything that the building symbolised seemed to burn with it.