by
Ryan Clement
Déjà vu is widely recognised as the sensation of having previously experienced a current situation. Many individuals encounter this feeling of familiarity without being able to pinpoint when it occurred; typically, it transpires in places one has not visited before. Although my experience was somewhat different at the time, I only realised its significance years later when the memory resurfaced.
Several years ago, a friend of mine spent a few days in Paris on business. My late mother often remarked that I was exceptionally instinctive, contrasting her meticulous planning with my tendency to make last-minute decisions that frequently proved successful. My approach prioritised minimal preparation for maximum enjoyment. Having not visited Paris in some years—despite multiple prior trips—I spontaneously contacted my friend regarding the return flight. Upon learning of a late departure, I arranged immediate travel to Charles de Gaulle airport, coordinating to meet after my friend finished work at 5pm local time. Following a swift packing process, I travelled by train to Victoria Station, transferred to the Piccadilly Line to reach Heathrow, flew to Paris, and took a train to Gare du Nord. After several failed attempts, we eventually met at one of the Starbucks within the station.
Leaving the Paris Métro, Opéra, we walked to the hotel. The surroundings seemed vaguely familiar somehow, which I attributed to the night time conditions, winter, and fatigue, especially since my prior accommodations were nearer to the Avenue des Champs Élysée. After settling in, we searched for an appropriate dining venue and chose nearby O’Sullivans, a bar located on Boulevard Montmatre. It was lively, hosting both Liverpool and Paris Saint-Germain fans as Champions League matches played on multiple screens. The atmosphere was energetic and enjoyable, largely due to the overwhelming local support for PSG. Both teams performed well; I recall neither suffered a loss that night and may even have won. ⚽️
The next day included brunch at Ladurée on the des Champs Élysée, a trip to Tiffany & Co. (as one does), greeted by the famous picture of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and visits to Notre Dame (before the fire) and the Eiffel Tower. On the way back, we had refreshments near Gare du Nord before narrowly making the return flight—which is a story for another blog. After arriving back in London, we parted ways following an eventful 24-hour period. I was in court in Central London the next day, thinking, ‘What on earth just happened!’ 🤔 It was surreal.
A few years later, whilst organising some photographs of mine, I found a picture of my soulmate (mentioned in a previous blog to whom I pitched Like Father) and me taken outside a hotel in Montmartre when I/we first visited the French capital. Remarkably, the recent hotel was within close proximity to where I had first stayed in Paris aged just eighteen. This revelation explained the sense of familiarity I had and provided some sense of closure. Years afterwards, I surprised my son with a spontaneous trip to Paris. I collected him straight from school on a Friday afternoon and with his clothes already packed, we headed around the M25 motorway to Terminal 5 (T5), Heathrow. Though tempted to revisit the previous hotel of all those years ago when I was in my teens, I refrained from doing so, preferring instead to preserve the special memories associated with that most precious experience.
Until next time, au revoir!
Copyright © Ryan Clement 2025
Ryan Clement 