EuropEDEN

I am many things..but I'm also not many things I'd love to be. And a Parisian was one of them. Because all the women are beautiful? all the buildings are even prettier? Or maybe because of my presupposition that an illuminated Eiffel tower acts as some sort of steel beacon of light and hope for others? Maybe it was the techno, maybe it was Eric Cantona. Not quite sure but my life had been subtly 'twined with other Francophiles. My own, impersonal, star cross'd Juliets. I risked guaranteed As for an exam board to confirm to me that I had some flair in enunciating my voudrais' and jouers' - phase 1 complete. Phase 2 - convince the rest of the family they will love it too, check. Now it's flight time. Bags packed, hotels booked, buzzing.Bonjour, Je m'appelle...Bonjour, Je m'appelle - even the taxi driver gets merci's. But wait a minute... It can't be THAT good. I mean, they eat snails there dont they? You don't even have an itinerary! And...before you know it its Take off, fly, touch down. CDG - taxi to hotel. This is gonna be terrible. Where the frick is this hotel?? I can only imagine my disgruntled face semi-squished against the passenger side window of a minivan. Until I wound it down. Ah, glorious rays bursting forth and showering me in a epiphanic like release of worries and concerns. Has the open road even spoken to you before? If the breeze through my afro could speak it was saying Carpe Diem. With a Father like mine, there's not much left to seize but enjoy I did. Strict curfews, logistical nightmares and a lack of autonomy can do much to ruin ones mood. But not for me. Not the first time I went to Paris. The magic was in the air that week. As I floated along the Seine, half-way between awake and asleep I looked over at my brother, looking back at me and we smiled. A no - words I'm glad we had this moment smile. The Eiffel? An experience, but the magic isn't in the steel. Or in the lights, which I didn't even see. The magic is in its awe-inspiring history and prominence. The women. Better than home but not better than my dreams. The techno? Haha, ask someone who knows. I fell in love with Paris, all over again and again. Because the first time I went to Paris was the first time I learnt to look up. To smell the smells and to hear the sounds. My french may be a little worse than before, but I have never had the freedom to explore the dots on my world map. Now I can,go again, like the first time.