We’ll Always Have Paris.

I had been warned prior to my gap year in Europe by the University doctor who, let’s face it, must have seen hundreds of students returning from exchange programs showing symptoms of strange rashes and itchy privates. She explained quite frankly that “travel is very romantic, you might find yourself on a train, winding its way through snowcapped mountains and meet a dashing man. All of a sudden, a twenty-five year age difference doesn’t seem so bad.” She paid special attention to the temptations associated with being a young backpacker in Paris. As I set out to see the romantic city, with its rumored tree lined walkways and accordion playing bums, I swore to myself “I will not fall in love in Paris.”

Six years after my first trip to Paris I have returned, and couldn’t help but remember how badly I failed at my attempt to “NOT fall in love” in the notoriously romantic city. Thinking back, I don’t even think I lasted 24 hours before my little backpacking heart was swept away the moment I laid eyes on my bunk buddy in the “Peace and Love” youth hostel…yes, really the name of a hostel, and yes, the very reason I stayed there. Until very recently I have looked back on my love affair in Paris, and only ever remembered my Australian amore. Not what I ate, drank, smoked, paintings I saw, cathedrals I visited. On this recent trip however, I realized that not only did I fall in love in Paris when I was 19, I fell in love with Paris, and with travel six years ago. I fell in love with the way my backpack straps weighed on my shoulders as I walked to the train station and the impression my feet made in my worn Birkenstocks. A new stamp in my passport did, as it does today, make my heart flutter, and learning to order a glass of wine in French made me feel like an independent woman. I am a bit more seasoned a traveler now, but last month’s trip back to the city where it all began sent sparks flying in this backpacker’s heart.

I had just over 24hrs in Paris this time around, a time frame where you have to make a decision: “Will I make a mad dash to every landmark and tourist hot-spot in an 5-mile radius?” OR “Will I stroll the streets, snap a few artsy photos, take in some local cuisine, and maybe if I am lucky end up in a street parade?” I’ll take the latter any day. So that is what we did. Matt and I spent 24 hours with Le Grand Paris, starting quite by mistake at the Eiffel Tower. Yes, a bit touristy, BUT in my defense when I first came to Paris in 2005 I was too in-love to be bothered to see the iconic structure so I was rather pleased when we sort of bumped into it. Starting a tour from this lovely spot on the Seine allowed us easy access to the Botobus, a water taxi service that drops passengers at several spots along the river.

Back on dry ground…well I had already wet my lips with a little Bordeaux, we hopped off the Botobus at Musee De O’Rsay, strolled down Quai Voltaire, and crossed the Pont Royal Bridge into the Jardin du Carrousel. Through lush greenery, ample walkways, and Secret Garden worthy fountains we spotted the Pyramide du Louvre by renowned architect I. M Pei. I remember falling in love with architecture as well on my first trip to Paris, a love that has propelled me to visit cities since for their buildings alone: Chicago, Dubai, and Barcelona. But Paris’s architecture is uniquely innovative with centuries of design standing seamlessly together.

Although my appetite for architecture, glass, and steel had been fed, Matt still hadn’t tasted a fresh Parisian baguette and I was in the mood for a staple of French cuisine. Hoping to avoid going into a detailed explanation of Foie Gras, I took Matt to Rue Montorgueil, ducked into Comptoir de la Gastronomie as it was the Café with the fattest, healthiest bird painted on its sandwich board, and ordered nothing but bread, cheese, wine, and this savory French delicacy. Filled with duck liver and sourdough we “waddled” across Pont Louis Philippe to Ile St-Louis for a sacred desert. Eating Berthillon Ice cream feels like being in an old world love story, and I ate up both the melting treat and being in Paris with Matt.

We spent the evening perched on a bench in the Latin Quarter with a carafe of Bordeaux looking up at a slivered moon. I remember on my first trip to Paris sitting on a bottle shop floor with my hostel romance, judging a “good” wine by the depth of its indentation in the bottom of the bottle. I was so overwhelmed that for one, I was 19 years old and allowed to purchase a bottle of wine, and that I was in love in the most romantic city in the world, Paris. This past visit brought about much of the same emotion, but with a slightly more maudlin attachment to my early years as a backpacker. I realized that along with being the capital of romance, Paris is also the best place for a young traveler to start. It was for me a starting point, and now a lovely place to return again and again.

Wishing my Paris love a very happy birthday and wonderful year of travel.

Want to Visit Paris? Airline: AirFrance direct from Seattle Hotel: Hôtel Novanox, 155, bd du montparnasse – 75006 Paris Transport from Charles de Gaulle: RER Line B3 5:30am-Midnight, 40 minute trip. Visa for Americans: Nope. Travel Guide: Lonely Planet, Paris Encounter.