“There is art everywhere in Paris; on the Metro, tired looking old men play haunting melodies on their accordions, lovers make out on park benches and there’s a monument to beauty every time you turn a corner. Wandering around Montmartre, which is certainly as confusing an area as London Bridge, wasn’t frightening or overwhelming because I didn’t really have anywhere to be; you can’t get lost when you don’t have a destination. Getting completely turned around and then finding my way out again was one of the experiences I loved and I found that the men and women who ran the local fresh fruit and vegetable stands that are so common in Montmartre were always willing to point me in the right direction – usually while gentle correcting my shoddy French. Meals alone taken while listening to the animated prattle of French speakers at nearby tables while I dipped in and out of a book were some of my favorite moments, along with the rain that seemed to pour down every night muffling the sound of the church bells from nearby Sacre Coeur.”
From: Solo Travel: How Traveling to Paris Alone Changed My Life
Beautifully written.
I’m leaving for London in a week and a half for work, and since I’ll be in the area, I decided that I should extend my trip a week to travel. How often does one get the opportunity to fly roundtrip, all expenses paid to Europe?
At first I had imagined an extravagant post-London journey with friends, hopping from Barcelona to Paris to Krakow and then back again to London, all within 7 days. But as I slowly attempted to pull together the details, I realized that this ambitious trip was impossible, both financially and time-wise.
So I said fuck it. I’m just going to catch a train from London and spend a full week in Paris by myself. And that’s exactly what I’ll be doing.
The prospect of traveling by myself to a foreign country I’ve never been to before, where the primary language spoken is one other than English, is both exciting and terrifying, but I’m really looking forward to it. I just can’t wait to be in Paris, to absorb the City of Lights at my own leisure without anyone else’s schedule to consider or adhere to.
It’s funny, because I guess this is always what I imagined I’d be doing one day. In high school I used to always write about how one day I would find myself sitting on a warm balcony in some villa in Spain, letting sunlight pour through worn shutters and paint strips across the floor. I always imagined that I would one day find myself with my journal and pen in hand, sitting for hours in a cafe where the surrounding conversations were in a tongue I didn’t understand.
I guess this day has finally come. It’s so weird to grow up and watch my adolescent dreams unfold.