Ahhhh, Paris…

I checked myself into a relatively decent hostel for my last few nights in Europe, and started to re-acquaint myself with what is supposed to be one of the world’s most romantic cities. And romantic it is, with its winding streets scattered with Parisians strolling stereotypically with baguettes in their hands.

I met up with a couple of other solo travellers, which there seemed to be an abundance of, and headed off into a Parisian night at the Eiffel tower on my first night. Stocked with cheap wines and high spirits, we found a comfy piece of grass at the tower’s base and after a few bottles found ourselves chatting away with some South Americans, a couple of Germans and a fistful of Moroccans.

Once an hour, on the hour, the tower lit up with a dazzling light show, like an oversized Christmas tree with enough strings of lights for the entire neighbourhood. Without fail all conversation would come to a standstill, and all heads turned to the sparkling tower. I imagine our eyes all widened a bit, and a complacent grin fell over our lips as we each retreated into our own thoughts, hopes and dreams. Yes, life’s pretty good.

The next couple of nights were spent sitting on the steps of la basilique du Sacré Coeur de Montmartre, offering one of the best views of the Parisian skyline while I made a great new friend from California. A small crew banded together, unified not only by the regular traveller bonds – language, distance from home and virginity to so many new cities — but by something even stronger: we were all going home.

With mixed emotions I boarded a plane last weekend and began the final leg of my trip. I was flying home. The flight passed with relative ease, and after what seemed like countless hours (about ten, but who’s counting?) I was back on Canadian soil once again. After greeting loving parents, I was whisked away from the airport in a big cozy car.

And now I sit in reflection, home a week and already back into classes at school for another year. When I look back at what I’ve gained and lost over the summer past, I can’t help but be happy with what I’ve done. Sure, my finances have suffered (I dream restlessly of bankers rubbering their hands greedily with teeth-bared sneers) but all of this is nothing in comparison to the things I’ve seen, learned and experienced. The world is a big place, and I but a small piece of it, but I can safely say I know both just a bit better now.

Those who wander are not always lost
-Anonymous-