It was already past seven in the evening in Paris when we alighted from our train that departed from Luxembourg City an hour or so earlier. The Gare De L'est, which is situated in the east side of Paris is a huge central train terminal. Looking around and observing the shops further away from the train concourse and close to the main station entrance at the opposite side, the Gare De L'est could be mistaken only as one impressive strip mall.

Had it not been for what I thought were original structures of the station, aside from rail tracks and train themselves - like this huge decorative circular glass window above the entrance wall, the almost-artisan carved gigantic arched entrances with classic embossed lettering on top indicating a year or a name, the classy marble flooring all over the station, the digital LED clock post that seems to continuously show-off its fiery red numbers flashing to every traveler passing by, those strategically located modern information booths, and at the south-end where a well-lighted and busy central ticketing office is located - I would have made it only but a modern and a bit neoclassical shopping centre. The visual appeal for a synergetic attempt of its design at least made this station look outstanding to me.

As my wife and I were waiting for our friend we were about to meet, we just agreed to sit on a bench facing the wide open entrance. From there, I felt the cold air gushing in. It was gentle and cold, but less (as opposed to wintertime in Canada!).

Looking outside from where we're sitting, I looked up above past the glass window and saw orange-hued colour spread throughout the evening sky that may indicate a lively and a highly urbanised activities the city of Paris may have been enjoying that night. While the orangey iridescent colour seems to mutely brush-off the darkness brought about by evening sky over the city, the colour became stronger as soon as my gaze level off to the city's skyline that was characterized by an interesting outline of assortment of city's buildings and structures.

The light snow I noticed from the outside falling to the ground gave me an almost surreal perspective of the city and enforced my long-time held understanding of what Paris is. Against a backdrop of some neon- and incandescent-inspired lighting festooned to ornament the facade of a hotel from across the street, the free-falling snow that reeled in slow motion before my captivated eyes, built the picture I've been drawing upon Paris: the City of Lights. It would prove later on - as you will see from my succeeding journals, that Paris, indeed is right to be called by that name. TO BE CONTINUED...

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