For a first time traveler and solo wanderer, I’ve accomplished the impossible. My stomach was doing flips when I boarded the plane and, unfortunately, we started on a bad note: waking up to puke on my lap, but I kept my composure and did not screech on top of my lungs, and I then reacted to the saddest eyes staring back at me. I was able to change pants and was moved to a different seat, but the only thing on my mind was, “I need to scrub my skin off.” Now, fast forward a bit–the cab ride was fun, of course. My driver (Nono) wished to show me Paris through his eyes. Who wouldn’t take up this great opportunity– free cab ride in Paris and laughter? Well, I passed on it like the cautious person I am, took his number and hurried inside my hotel.
No one told me that check-in was at 2pm!!! The disappointed on my face when Antoine told me this was apparent. Yes, he was laughing at my misery, but he had to follow protocol. The puppy eyes and pout didn’t once phase him; I stubbornly left my luggage in the locker room on the first floor and decided to walk around. “Bonjour mademoiselle,” “salut,” “bon dieu que tu est belle,” Puis-je vous aider,” I’m loving this attention. Then it dawned to me–I can unapologetically be myself 100 percent. SWEET BABY JESUS!!!!! The excitement was overflowing. I bought fruits at the open market in Colonel Fabien, skipping on the streets. Yes, I was skipping. Then finally I got access to my room. For someone who wasn’t suffering from jetlag, I passed out for only two hours, then out and about.
Day One in Paris
Our first destination was Le Notre Dame de Paris. Now here’s the story, when I was younger, my fantasy wedding was always at the Notre Dame de Paris with 500 guests; I didn’t care about my dress or the bridesmaids or who the groom would be; however, the detail of the church was my only concern.Two nymphs in Paris; my beautiful and exciting new friend decided to show me the beauty before me. Can I say I was in awe? I felt like a grown man in a luxurious car dealership shop or like a kid around chocolates. This was epic, my heart felt as if it was going to explode, at this point I realized I didn’t wish to return to New York. We walked a little, we laughed a lot, we were on cloud nine. Then dinner, “mama coco rose,” okay I picked that dished just for the name; however, it was amazing. If I could, I would had asked for seconds.
Day Two in Paris
Woke up earlier than expected, but decided I needed to squeeze a couple hours in. Had an amazing brunch; The Veg-out Bun and french kissed my orange juice , then I had an amazing walk at Parc des Buttes-Chaumont and made a total fool of myself by not using GPS. Apparently clumsiness followed me there, too. Later that day we nymphs embarked on more adventures. The train and metro system were my favorite, I was excited to manually open their doors, their colorful seats brought a smile to my heart, then la creme de la creme of this train ride, Paris Nord.
Day Three in Amsterdam
Funny that I expected to be “high” on this trip. First stop, Hotel Anco; I was greeted with a shot of Jägermeister, then my conquest began. Second stop, The Jolly Joker–the only reason I was in Amsterdam was to get a weed brownie. Tragically, I didn’t get “high” even after I smoked; nevertheless, I understood Dutch and to me that was epic. I even helped decorate a stranger’s home near Wertheimpark before embarking on a new journey to Waterlooplein. Next morning, coffee with whipped cream, chocolate and cannabis; and still no effect.
Day Four in Brussels
Rushed my way to the nearest restroom; did I looked lost or crazy? I will never know. When I finally got access to Wifi, I immediately requested an UBER to Rue des Loups. Waited, and more waiting, until my house host came to fetch me. Then away we went on another train adventure, eating, laughing, dancing on moving escalators, flirting with waiters and military personnel, and drinking the night away. Until my host told me he drank his first alcohol beverage at the age of three; for someone who gets tipsy from one corona, I was nervous that he would get plastered around me.
Days Five, Six, Seven & Eight back in Paris
I became a pro at this. I can definitely live in Paris. My beautiful nymph hosted a private BBQ just for me at this whimsical garden called Une Oasis dans la ville. Here I learned the story of the woman who, as her last wish, asked for her ashes to be spread around the garden since she couldn’t visit due to her illness. We bonded in ways no stranger could. My nymphs became family. We were followed by security just to be asked to take a picture with him; we were enlightened by Musee Jacquemart Andre, and my favorite piece of all was by Claude Monet-Pont Japonais. I was lost in his colors, drunk from the vividness of life and the sudden fear that overwhelmed me. Then we partied, we drank, and got chocolate wasted. Even told someone that they looked like a wax vagina and, surprisingly, he didn’t take offense to it. By now, I knew all the staff at The Generator and made a bond with some solo travelers, as well. The catacombs were breathtaking, and I enjoyed every minute and, then, the story of some Americans being drunk and “raping” a skeleton got around the hotel. My trip came with a beautiful end, a walk in Panteon to Jardin du Luxembourg, eating some crepes at La Petite Bretonne, and then listening to some jazz at Autour de Midi. Now all I needed was a kiss from a French guy to make my trip.
Did I cry when I left? No, I’m a big girl and I had on my big-girl panties so I had to suck it in. I’m here staring outside my window at work wishing I was still there. I haven’t gotten my kiss, damn it!!!!