How Talking With a Barista Led Me to Live in a Dream Paris Apartment for 3 Weeks

All with 0% planning and 100% serendipity

Yes, this is the view from my bedroom window.

Talk to strangers. That’s how I spontaneously ended up living in Paris for three weeks in a beautiful apartment with views of the Eiffel Tower.

On June 15th at golden hour I sat by the window on the 7th floor as the sun rays sparkled all over the room. The Eiffel Tower silhouetted in the distance perfectly nestled between two buildings for an unobstructed view. This would be my home for the next three weeks.

I took two fingers and physically pinched myself until my skin turned red.

Do you ever find yourself in the middle of a moment chuckling to yourself, “How the heck did I get here?”

The kind of moments that seem almost absurd. Nothing planned yet everything synchronized. There’s no explanation other than magic.

Rewind

Two weeks prior, I’d come to Europe to be in a video with Yes Theory in Germany. After the adventure (read full story here), I went to Belgium and Paris with my new friends Luke and Gabriel. After Paris, Luke was heading back to Australia, Gabriel was going back to Quebec, and my plan was to solo-travel around for two weeks and then go home.

On my last day in Paris, I was working from a coffee shop in Montmartre, when the internet cut out. Slightly annoyed, I left and roamed the streets in search of another cafe to work from.

As I walked, I became melancholy that I’d soon be leaving this city. In Paris, all you have to do is take a walk and let the world entertain you. Subconsciously I wished I could stay here longer and immerse myself in the city of light as a local would.

After a few minutes of searching for my next work spot, I stumbled into a co-working coffeeshop.

After greeting the barista, with my usual, “Hi, how are you?”¹ chit chat, I ordered my drink and got to work.

When I got up to pay and leave, the barista saw my camera and asked if I was a photographer. I explained that I’m traveling Europe for a few weeks and have been enjoying photographing as a hobby.

For whatever reason and without any thoughts, this was next thing popped into my mind: I asked him, “do you happen to know of anyone renting a room in their Paris apartment for a few weeks?”

He asked if I just wanted to stay on someone’s couch but I replied that ideally wanted a room of my own. He said he didn’t but that he’d ask around his friend group. We exchanged names and numbers.

A few hours later, I get a message from my new barista friend, Etienne.

“Ok, so I have a plan for you (and the best one I should say). A friend is okay to sublet her apartment to you. I’ll let you check with her directly… Honestly, it’s the most beautiful flat I have seen in Paris. I think you’re gonna love it!!”

Excuse me? What?! Did I just secure an apartment as a result of talking with a barista at a coffee shop I had never before met in my life? “What is happening?!” I thought to myself.

The next day I was traveling to Amsterdam so I didn’t even get a chance to see the apartment or meet the person, Noemie, whose room I would potentially stay in.

At the same time, I also was exploring other options on Facebook marketplace for apartments. It felt right to do the homework of exploring other options. But after exchanging sketchy messages with other sublets, I did an intuition check.

It was no coincidence that I met Etienne and that he connected me with Noemie, with hardly any effort at all. Perhaps it was meant to be that I accepted her offer.

The universe conspired to help me get the apartment from Noemie and something just felt right about it. I said yes.

After Amsterdam, I went to Italy then Spain and Switzerland. After that, it was time I returned to Paris and go stay at this apartment.

Arriving at Gare de Lyon, I walked to the apartment located in the 12th Arrondissement near Promenade Plantée. It would be understandable to be nervous, I was about to go to a place recommended to me by a stranger and in a part of Paris I had never been to. But somehow I was calm and excited to see the place.

My first impression of the building was that inside was the tiniest elevator I’d ever been in. I had to take my backpack off and stand sideways to fit. I took it to the 6th floor and then had to walk up a flight of stairs to the 7th floor.

I chuckled at the fact that it was the 7th floor, for 7 is a magic number.

A New Friend

Greeting me on the landing with a hug was Noemie. Within the next 30 minutes, we were drinking espresso and chatting like two friends reuniting again for the first time in years. We were nerding out about human design, astrology, tarot, crystals, energy, and coincidences.

We exchanged stories and I shared mine about why I got Europe in the first place. She shared hers about being a singer-songwriter and an artist.

She told me that she was grateful for me entering her life at this time because it sped up her decision to travel. She had been on the fence about traveling and subleasing her place, and since I came along, the path suddenly was made more clear for her.

Sometimes we are so caught up in our personal stories that we forget how intertwined we are with others. By staying in her apartment, I directly influenced her journey. As much as it was meant for me to stay in Paris for three weeks, it was also meant for her to go off on her own adventures while I lived at her house. We are all interconnected.

What’s crazy is we even shared a lot of things in common— like both being swimmers, both learning boxing, and both being readers and poets.

But, How Do You Trust Strangers?

In our conversation, the topic turned to strangers. “How do you know when to trust someone?” She asked me.

“It’s just a gut feeling,” I suggested. “Maybe it’s intuition.”

She shared how she had checked her intuition when it came to me living at her house. It’s not a decision to take lightly to let a stranger live in your house with all your things. How did she know she could trust me?

I shared similarly that I did a gut check too. Despite not knowing her, I was putting a lot of trust in the apartment, the roommate, even paying her the deposit without meeting first. But something inside told me it would be okay.

We laughed and the joy in the air was that of two people whose paths were destined to cross, in the most bizarre way.

We spent the rest of the afternoon together getting to know one another and being in awe of our similarities and curious about our differences.

When it was time for Noemie to go, I helped her pack the car and she gave me her apartment keys and drove away to Belgium. I walked back to the apartment with a smile.

A little wave of sadness swept over me realizing that our brief day of in-person friendship was over. Who knows when I’d see her again. But I did know it was enough to spark a long-distance friendship. We’ve exchanged texts every few days since and even video called.

Life in the Magic Apartment

Living in that apartment was straight out of a Parisian movie. Antique yet stylish. Each morning birds sang and sunshine rays danced in the kitchen as I opened the window and sipped a coffee in Noemie’s tiny little ceramic mugs. In the evenings the sunset put on a spectacle with the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

Summer meant darkness rolled around at 11 pm. I’d look out onto the Parisian rooftops from my bed and see the tower glitter with lights at midnight. Sometimes I’d be up at 1 am even, to catch its twinkling light show.

Noemie had loaned me her bike commute card, so I zipped around Paris on a bike all day.  Sometimes I’d order a baguette and munch on it while walking down the street.

A new friendship also sparked with Paul and Loubna who were sharing the apartment. We’d exchange stories and conversations by the coffee machine in the mornings and in the hallway in the evenings. I suggested to Paul that we could exchange houses next year. He could go live in mine in Austin and I could live in his room in Paris. Without hesitation, he said absolutely.

A Second Home

On my last weekend in Paris, there was a Yes Theory community meetup at a park. About 20 people came and instantly became friends. Not the small talk friendship, but a real deep friendship.

When I shared that I was going to Turkey in three days, I openly asked if anyone wanted to join. I didn’t actually expect anyone to say yes. But an American ex-pat, Nicole, make a beeline toward me after and asked if I was serious about anyone joining me. “Of course!” I replied.

Next thing I know, Nicole bought a flight to Cappadocia and Istanbul on the same dates as me.

At the meetup, I also met Juan Diego, a fellow runner, and we ran 8 miles together the next morning throughout the city. A hello and a farewell all in one run. But that’s life, for beginnings always hide themselves in ends.

On my last night, it was pouring rain yet five Yes Fam friends came with me to get crepes and stand huddled under a storefront porch while the storm passed. If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is.

It made me a little sad that on my last weekend in Paris is when I met so many new friends. But it makes me so happy that next time I come back, I’ll already have a community.

There’s no better thing than feeling at home in a foreign city.

Paris went from being unfamiliar, to now feeling like a second home. All thanks to talking with a stranger at a coffee shop.

It can be easy to see this unfold and call it luck or good timing. But the reality is none of this was planned or even dreamed up. Life is a delicate balance between remembering our own autonomy to make choices (like talking with a barista) and letting the universe do its thing (fate or destiny). We are always toggling between the two, and when we find the sweet spot balance, that’s when the magic of life begins to happen.

PS: Stay tuned for the story of how my solo adventure to Turkey became a not-solo adventure after Nicole spontaneously joined me and we rode on a hot air balloon. Then how we met a new Australian friend in Goreme who coincidently was on my same flight to Istanbul. Oh and how a friendly elderly couple invited us for coffee in a cave in the back of their antique store. Life is full of surprises.

1. Whether it’s a barista or a waiter or a store clerk, I generally greet people and ask how they are doing. It never occured to me that that’s not common (at least in europe in the service industry). But weeks later, after I was already living in his friend’s apartment, Etienne and I got to hang out. He told me the first thing that struck him about me that day we met at the coffee shop was that I asked, “how are you?” He said that no customer had ever asked him that at the cafe. It’s crazy to see how much a simple question can actually mean something to someone and help spread kindness in the world.