Growing up, my dad always taught me to not make excuses. Sorry dad, but here I go. This trip was no lounging vacation. I filled every minute with action, and that meant my blog posting duties were put on pause. How fortunate that I have zero fans on this site and no one was holding their breath for the next post! However, I stayed diligent on writing every single detail of my days in my journal. So, in ordered to avoid the meticulous task of copying a whole half journal on this blog, I have decided to share a glimpse of each city I experienced. Picking favorite pieces and places has never been easy for me.
Paris:
Oh Paris, leaving you was not easy. Saying goodbye to see another city felt like leaving my lover for another. But don't worry, I'll be back. No amount of Rom-Coms or culture lessons in French class could prepare me for the overwhelming city. I found myself growing mildly frustrated through the course of the three short days I was there as I was only catching fleeting pieces of the real city culture in between all of my tourist activities. Our first day dragged as the group carried jet lag and was awake for a total of 32 hours. But each day got increasingly better as they all started with a chocolate pastry at breakfast. If I truly recorded all the best parts of my trip, this post would be completely about food. I have no shame. I went through the motions of bus tours and boat tours, but constantly my feet craved to experience the Paris streets on their own. Eventually they were satisfied as I strolled along the Seine and shopped at local booths that lined the sidewalks. My friends and I would stop to rest by sitting at a restaurant or cafe hidden in narrow side streets and enjoying local foods, such as bread, wine, and escargot. My breath was constantly taken away from me as I stepped into amazing cultural marks of the city. I can proudly say I prayed on my knees at the Notre Dame, watched the Mona Lisa's eyes follow me as I walked away from her, touched the metal railings of the second floor of the Eiffel Tower with a panoramic view of the city around me, smelled the flowers in the garden of the Palace of Versailles, admired my favorite Monet painting, God-like work of Van Gogh, and jaw dropping Neo Impressionism at the Musee D'Orsay, and practiced my Kindergarten level french while doing so. I will never forget indulging in a crepe as I watched the setting sun go down behind the Arc de Triomphe on my last night. A sweet goodbye to the sweet city I was only just beginning to know.
Sarlat:
I don't know how to describe the atmosphere of Sarlat other than magical. Strolling the streets, I felt more like a Princess than a tourist. The city is medieval with all of the castle-like architecture, but extremely alive. The region is partly famous for the rich duck, but indulging in the local special was not the only taste of Sarlat that I know I will crave for my lifetime. I felt extremely welcomed in the town. On Saturday morning, everyone nearby flooded downtown to participate in the market filled with handcrafted goods and fresh foods. I didn't feel like the odd one out walking around since the market sellers spoke French back to me, despite recognizing that my tongue was foreign. Everything about the town was completely enchanting. The only part that made leaving the chateaus and delicious foods behind bearable was the drive through the lush outskirts of the city as we left.
Saint-Jean-de-Luz:
The little Atlantic coastal town of Saint-Jean-de-Luz appeared to be showing off to us. The city had it all; cobblestone sidewalks and town squares full of outdoor cafes, street art, palm trees, a beautiful beach, and the best, juiciest peach I've ever had. Though, this town was a sad reminder that we were leaving France, and we only stayed here for the day before crossing the French-Spanish border. My friends and I decided to spend our time here splashing our feet in the ocean as we walked the coastline and admiring the beauty in the freedom and confidence of topless tanning women. The sun was beating down hard this day, so sitting outside and enjoying fresh produce seemed suiting. I appreciated this town for teaching me more than just admiring beauty in a foreign country. I also learned that what you're doing doesn't always matter, because who you're with makes all the difference. This town represented summer at its finest: laughs with friends, and sweating in 90 degree weather, which somehow feels good. Luckily, we indulged in a cold gelato as we made our way out of the final French city of the trip.