Paris at 30

This year, I will turn 30 years old. Or as I like to refer to it, I’ll be celebrating my second 29th birthday. I’m a dreamer, a romantic, a hopeless case for nostalgia and years gone by. In college, I chose to take French as my foreign language, and the love affair was instantaneous. With absolutely no background in the language or culture, I immersed myself in all things French. The Eiffel Tower is the most common thing hanging on store shelves, but my love for France extends beyond a single city and its monuments.

As I thought about the coming year and considered what I wanted to do for my birthday, I asked myself a simple question: if I could be anywhere in the world on my birthday, where would I choose to be? The answer was simple and instant. France, and in particular, Paris. In a perfect world, I’d have someone to share the experience, but why miss out on something simply because I am single?

So Paris in the fall is my plan. I hope to spend my birthday in the “City of Lights” and the rest of the week touring the country. I’ve considered the options and weighed the pros and cons, but nothing seemed to desaturate my desire to finally see Paris and France.

Many have warned me against going alone and shared dangers. “It’s a foreign country.” “They speak a different language.” “You don’t know the city.” “You don’t speak the language.” “You don’t know anyone.” (And my personal favorite) “the French hate Americans.”

Turns out, I’m just stubborn enough to ignore them all. I haven’t looked forward to something as much as this in a long time, perhaps since moving to Auburn. So, the romanticist inside has won the battle. Bring on the cheese and the white wine, little insulin required.

I’ve pulled out my old French textbooks and notecards, and I’ve started doing my best to relearn a difficult language. I bought a couple of books written in French to translate, and I’ve dusted off my Carla Bruni albums. (OK, not really dusted — but I did make sure they were loaded on my iPod.) I’m hoping to master “where is the restroom?” and “how many carbohydrates are in this?” before my plane takes off.

I don’t have it all figured out, but I do know that never again in my life will it be this easy to go. And I refuse to ever be the woman who says, “I wish I’d done that.” I have enough regrets (like not going to Europe on my high school trip and not studying abroad in college); I refuse to have any more of them. I love travel and thrive off exploration and seeing things from new perspectives. So I’m going to France for my 30th birthday. (#likeyoudo)

I plan to do a bike tour, travel to Marseille and Lyon by train and hope to meet up with a few friends in the area. But the majority of my trip will be unplanned. To wake up with no itinerary, no plans, no deadlines and no schedule sounds amazing to me. I can enjoy a glass of wine with breakfast if I so choose. I can walk through arrondissements and navigate the subway to museums and the Arc de Triomphe. I can visit the graves of famous writers from the past, and I can sit in a park with my bible and my journal and soak every bit of it in.

Brioche and Profiterole? Yes please.
Roquefort and Brie? My favorite.
Salade Niçoise? Sure, I’ll try it.

And a big thanks to my encouragers! You know who you are!