Here’s the thing: big cities have never been my favorite. I was underwhelmed by London last year, and was indifferent about going to Paris. I’d rather plop my bum down on some tropical sand and sip my coconut water, ya know? But unbeknownst to me, I’d actually come to fall in love with Paris, France, and this is the love story…
Earlier this year we had talked about taking a girls trip to Charleston, South Carolina in celebration of our 10-year high school reunion. After pricing things out, I jokingly said, “it would probably be cheaper to fly to Paris.” Turns out, it was, and it didn’t take much else to persuade them to travel to Europe instead.
Truth be told, Charleston was actually higher on my bucket-list than Paris was, but I was excited to explore a new country with my oldest girlfriends nonetheless.
As the trip got closer, and I started to do my research, I was hearing more bad things than good about Paris— the cleanliness, the pickpocketing, the prices, the safeness (or lack thereof), and the cold, judgy attitudes of the locals— all of which turned me off to the idea of the city. I found that I was more anxious, and couldn’t really get into a Parisian state-of-mind. It was a weird feeling, I wasn’t excited.
When I got there, things changed.
I do this annoying thing when I travel where I compare foreign cities to those back home. For example, London reminded me a lot of San Francisco and Whistler reminded me of Northstar in Tahoe. It kind of takes away some of the excitement, and makes me feel like I’m not appreciating what’s in front of me, but I can’t stop my brain from making those comparisons. That being said, Paris was different. It was like nothing I had ever seen or experienced before. For the first time (besides when I was in Thailand, for obvious reasons), I actually felt like I was in a foreign country. It was everything I ever envisioned Europe to be, and then some.
And, I loved it.
I loved the architecture, the corner cafes and the cobblestone roads. I loved the ancient fountains and the matching statues. I loved that everyone drinks wine (rosé) at 2pm, and then naps afterwards. I loved the food (baguettes and brie), and the espresso martinis. I loved that everyday, without even trying, we got in at least 7 miles of walking. I loved how the Eiffel Tower sparkled at night. I loved the shopping, even though my bank account didn’t. I loved how everyone gathered along on the Seine River for happy hour. I loved that everywhere you looked, there was something Instagrammable. I loved that every restaurant has an outdoor patio that faces the street so you can look out and take in your surroundings. I loved how effortlessly chic all the people, places and things were. I loved that being there changed my perspective on the city. And most importantly, I loved every last memory and experience with my best friends.
Moral of the story: je t’aime, Paris.
Blue Life Two Piece Set c/o Largo Drive.