Straßourg

When I left Nice's beaches for Strasbourg, everyone asked me why. But it was actually an amazing place and I'm happy I got to see it. Since it's in the Alsace region, it has a very German feel which made it different from everywhere else I'd been. Even though it's a big city (it's actually the capital of all Europe), it looked like an adorable little Bavarian village. 

Since I had taken the overnight train, I had plenty of time on my first day there to explore. It ended up being a tour of churches that perfectly summed up my trip. The three biggest cathedrals in the city each had features that looked similar to an amazing church I saw elsewhere. The first had a dome that reminded me of Sacre Cœur. 

The next church I came across was the most unique. The inside was decorated with murals instead of stained glass like most cathedrals. 

 But the courtyard attached to it looked exactly like the Mont St. Michel abbey. 

The last one I found is actually one of the top attractions of the city, la Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Strasbourg. At one point it was the tallest building in the world, so it really is impressive. But the facade reminded me of la Sagrada Familia in Barcelona because it was so busy and ornate.  

For the rest of the day I just wandered the streets and channels. The pastry shops in Strasbourg were probably my favorite because they had the best French baked goods and the best German delicacies. Which basically means they make a lot of pretzels in addition to the tarts and chocolates. 

The first night, I was sitting in the lobby when someone I knew walked in. Troy is an Australian I had met early on in Nice, but we had no idea that we would both be in Strasbourg. So the next day we met early and headed out for a day of exploring. We actually wandered so far that we walked straight into Germany. There isn't much to see in the small town of Kehl, but at least I can now say I had a beer in Germany. 

After two relaxing and great days, I headed back to Paris, completing the circuit of my very own Tour de France. I'm still amazed at how natural that city feels to me and how easily I navigate the metro and streets without a map. So I spent the day just walking and enjoying my last full day in Europe. 

Yeah, it's pretty Nice

Since leaving Saint Malo, I've had the most unforgettable experiences! When I realized I had the chance to go anywhere, I immediately booked a train to Nice. I spent a total of 9 hours on the train, including two stuck in the mountains on the train who thought he couldn't. I finally got there after midnight, and I was greeted with 80 degree weather and beautiful views.

The first day, I woke up bright and early to go sightseeing before it got too hot. There is a beautiful set of castle ruins on a hill with the most incredible panorama view of the Baie des Anges. 

From there, I walked back down into the old city where there is a multitude of wonders. I think every city must agree it's fun to hide the most impressive churches down the narrowest streets. 

The biggest market in Nice is the Cours Saleya. Most days it is a flower and fruit market, but it turns into an antique flea market on Mondays. Since I happened to be staying in Nice long enough, I got to see both versions. Most of the flowers were arranged in gorgeous boquets that made the entire neighborhood smell amazing; but there were also "flowers" appropriate for the weather,

and sea sponges being sold as natural face cleansers. 

After a few hours walking around in the heat, all I wanted to do was run into the sea. So I grabbed a towel and headed to the infamous beaches.

After spending so many days on the beaches of Saint Malo, where the sand was impossibly sticky, the sandless rock beaches seemed like a welcome change. And then I actually walked on one... The stones were so hot that I have blisters and cuts from walking the short distance to the water and back. But just being in the cool water made it worth it. 

Within ten minutes I was playing volleyball in the sea with a Québécois, a Welsh, and two Italians. After a couple hours with them on the beach, it was only 1 in the afternoon (I really meant it when I said I was up bright and early). So on a whim I decided to go to Monaco. The group from the beach were heading back to the Italians' apartment, so we took the same train. Well in my excitement over the Québécois commenting that I spoke in the exact style of a French person, I accidentally missed my exit. Instead of panicking, I exited at Ventimiglia and got to have an amazing pasta and shrimp lunch in Italy. Eventually, I did get back to Monaco in time to wander the streets and the route of the Grand Prix before watching the sunset on the beach. 

That night I headed to the casino to just watch the rich people and their cars.

What happened still feels like a dream. As I was walking behind a group of younger adults just leaving, I heard them talking about Michigan. In a random stroke of boldness and luck, I introduced myself and they actually talked to me. When they found out I had just finished working as an au pair, all the women in the group went crazy. It turns out, the group was 4 couples from Port Huron who have all been looking for a part-time au pair for their children. They insisted on talking to me more, so they invited me to have a drink on a yacht with them. Somehow, my budgeted trip turned into sipping a glass of wine on a yacht in Monte Carlo with 4 women fighting over who could pay me to come to Disney with them first. I'm still not getting my hopes up that it wasn't all a dream; but if it is real, then I might have the most amazing job when I get back to America. 

The next day, I explored the immediate area around my hostel and found a fresh food market. So I bought some peaches and the makings for a sandwich that I took to the beach for my daily picnic. This time, it was a group from Normandy that I played volleyball with. The guys in the group wanted to practice their English, but the girls were more than happy to be speaking French with me.

That night I bought some noodles from the supermarket and made pasta in the hostel's kitchen. There were several other people doing something similar, so we all ate together and hung out. It was a huge group of Australians, Canadian newlyweds, Swedish boy band members, and Scott the Scot who had the most amazing accent I've ever heard. We decided to wander the streets looking for a good club, but when we finally chose one it ended up being a gay club. I think I enjoyed it more than anyone else. I got to chat and make friends with lots of French guys who promised to be my pen pals! 

The next day, I met the new group staying in my room - Maxx, Aidan, and Brian. It didn't take long to realize that Brian and I have most likely seen each other before. He lives in Ann Arbor and goes to planet rock (the climbing gym I love) almost every day. So we bonded over our love for U of M, and all went to the beach together. Somehow, every day on the beach I met a group of people I could talk to in French. That day, it was a couple Belgian guys who joined our party in the water. Later that night, our hostel was hosting a pub crawl. Almost everyone from the night before went out again, but we also got to meet some new awesome Australians and Swedish girls. 

I had a blast getting to know so many people from so many different places! But the next day was my last in Nice, so I figured I deserved another relaxing beach day with the Americans and Canadians before taking an overnight train to Strasbourg for my last couple days in Europe. 

La Bretagne

As if Saint Malo wasn't fantastic enough on it's own, it was perfectly situated in Bretagne to visit other gorgeous cities. Every different village had its own special charm. 

Cancale is the seafood haven of Bretagne, so the beaches are pretty much dedicated to fishermen. Deadliest Catch is a lot less exciting in real life..

At low tide, anyone can walk out on the beaches and find oysters. Most restaurants along the bay actually allowed you to bring in the shells for them to prepare fresh for you. With help from Boris, I harvested two perfect oysters. Once they were cooked with a lot of butter and sauces they tasted decent, despite the unappetizing texture. 

Dol is the only city I visited that wasn't on the ocean, but it was still gorgeous. It had a much more medieval feel that made it really fun to wander. Most of the streets in the center of the city were so narrow that only motorcycles and bikes were allowed. That also meant that you could rarely see what you were heading towards. At one point, I turned a corner and went from tiny passage to the parking lot of a massive cathedral. 

There was also a free medieval museum next to the cathedral that pretty much consisted of knives and buttons. 

Dinard is right across the bay from Saint Malo, so there's a cheap sailboat taxi running between the two all day. The coast of Dinard is primarily cliffs and wild land, so I spent the entire day climbing the rocks and hiking.

That morning I had packed a baguette and cheese picnic for myself, but when I sat down down to eat, I ended up sharing. I had climbed down from a path to a nice flat rock where I could dangle my feet in the ocean.

It wasn't long before a seagull was slowly inching towards me. Somehow, he never moved while I was watching but was closer every time I looked, like in a horror film. Eventually he was standing right next to me just starting at my bread. When I finally caved and fed him a piece, he took it surprisingly politely and sat down. He ended up sitting next to me for the whole meal, cooing happily. 

Dinard was a refreshing escape from the crowds of tourists in the cities. And the ride back gave me an amazing view of les Intramuros I have come to love so much.

One of the coolest places I visited was Mont Saint Michel, an incredibly old abbey and fortified island. It still houses monks today, but luckily the prison and torture chambers that used to occupy the basement have closed. 

Saint Malo was a wonderful city, and I'm lucky to have lived there. But plans change and life goes on, so as sad as I am to leave, my job with this family has ended and I'm heading out to explore the rest of France on my own. So be prepared, because I plan on making the most of my last two weeks and having plenty of fantastic stories. 

Comme d'habitude, Boris!

I would like to start this post with an apology to everyone for my previous stubbornness. This summer, my politeness won the battle against my taste buds and I've eaten things I always refused at home; I discovered that there isn't much that I don't enjoy once I give it a chance. Stephanie, pineapples are delicious, even on pizza. Dad, you can make stir fry as often as you want. Mom, I think I'll try your orange jello now. Liz, you don't have to be the only one eating tomatoes with my dad anymore.

If there is one upside to America's failure to follow the metric system, it's that I don't have to know how much weight I'm gaining. After the first couple days with my host family, I realized I would most definitely be putting on the kilos this summer. Every single meal I have eaten with them has been spectacular to say the least. I imagine it has something to do with their cookbook shelf looking like this:

Yes, every single one of those is a cookbook. Sometimes during naptime, I look through and try to find something delicious that I could actually succeed at making. So far, I've got it narrowed down to the 101 recipes in this book:

But realistically, I don't even want to think about Nutella for a couple months now. 

Every morning I wake up to find that fresh baked baguettes, brioche, croissants, and pain au chocolat from the bakery around the corner have magically appeared on the table with a pot of tea. For lunch, I usually cook for Clara and the boys. My naptime research has steadily improved my skills; I even made chicken cordon bleu the other day! But I still happily turn over the kitchen whenever it's possible for Caroline or Pascal to whip up something great. Their idea of a simple midday meal is smoked chorizo in a cheesy pasta dish.

After Clara's nap, we usually head out to the beach or for a walk within the walls, meaning we always end up at the crêperie by dinner time. It's the best rated crêperie in the city, and for good reason - it's one of the only ones to still make their crêpes fresh to order, rather than having a stack ready to dress with toppings. The best meals at Crêperie Margaux are the galettes, a local specialty. For the first couple visits, I tried to order something new every time. But eventually it was clear that I had a favorite: le complet. It consists of ham, that I watch her slice fresh in the home every morning, three delicious cheeses, and an egg to top it off. If I am feeling more adventurous, I simply and an e to it's name and get tomatoes as well. It is a mouthwatering combination nestled in the crunchy, salty version of a crêpe. 

I don't think anything you order here actually fits on a plate. But there's still always room for a dessert crêpe. I still haven't settled on a favorite, since it's possible to request any combination of fruits, sauces, and ice creams. The caramel in Bretagne is famous, so I highly recommend the butter caramel crêpe with vanilla ice cream; but even the crêpe au sucre (just sugar) will send you home happy. 

Since it's a small restaurant, there are only a few employees that aren't family. The sous chef is Boris, a college kid who comes back to work every summer. Since he likes to take me sightseeing around the neighboring cities on his days off, the family calls him my "French lover chef." When I walk in to the restaurant, I head for the kitchen to greet Caroline and Boris with les bisous (I'm still surprised by how normal it feels to kiss everyone you meet). After dropping off the stroller and beach bag, Clara always wants to visit the neighboring restaurants since she's stolen the hearts of every chef in the area. Eventually we make it back and sit down at the table in the kitchen. Immediately, Boris brings me un complèt I didn't even need to ask for, every time saying "comme d'habitude mademoiselle Katelyn."

The galettes are a lot more difficult to make so I usually let the professionals handle those, but I've really enjoyed learning all the techniques for making my own crêpes. I have the secret recipes for both, so maybe someday I'll open a crêperie in the States. 

Most days, Caroline can't get home until 11 at night, so they have a family midnight snack in lieu of a family dinner. It generally consists of wine or champagne and a homemade dessert. 

One night when I was scooping the ice cream, I had a revelation. They don't have two kinds of vanilla ice cream here. They only have "vanilla." Well guess what, it's actually the equivalent of our "French vanilla." I don't know why it surprised me so much, but the fact that something named after the French is actually just normal to them was really amusing to me. That was a hard one to explain to the family.

Even if my French skills had not improved this summer (which they most definitely have), I would be more than happy with the improvement in my cooking skills. Actually, I think this trip has conditioned me like a Pavlov dog to salivate every time I think about Saint Malo. 

Let's have a picnic! Pt. 2

The second half of my week in Paris was very different from the first, but it was still of course wonderful. Moving to my third hostel, I found myself in the outskirts of Paris, in the 15th arrondissement. If you look at a map of the metro system, it's pretty clear there are stops on practically every corner of the city. There is, however, one noticeable gap where no lines seem to go. My new hostel was located right in the center of this Bermuda Triangle where Parisians are lost. It took almost 30 minutes to walk to from the nearest station. Luckily, the atmosphere of the hostel was very friendly and it wasn't long before I met people that made it worth the trek.

When I checked into my room, there was only one person already occupying a bed - Lachlan. He was from Australia, but he hasn't actually lived in one place for the last 3 years. He's a chronic traveler and climber, so it was amazing and inspiring to hear some of his experiences. We bonded pretty quickly as we realized we liked a lot of the same things, so it didn't take long before we actually felt like great friends. It was his fourth time in Paris and I had been there for 2 weeks, so we agreed to NOT go to the Eiffel Tower that night. Instead, we noticed our hostel was hosting a wine and cheese tasting party. But since they did a terrible job of advertising it, there were only five other people there and we quickly made friends with them. Between the seven of us, we managed to eat all the cheese and bread (and avoid paying for dinner!) before Lachlan and I caved and agreed to take the two Americans, Kyle and Amy, and the Russian, whose name I can't even attempt, to see the sparkling Eiffel Tower. 

When we got there, my super saver mode took over and I opted out of climbing to the top. Instead, Lachlan and I sat on the grass below and tourist watched. The most amusing thing was watching people take pictures. Whenever one person had an original pose, everyone else copied them until another creative person came along to start a new trend. The best was when a group of American guys did a "keg stand" with a boxed wine they had brought. Everyone else just stared, judging whether or not they should even try that. After laughing at the few drunken attempts to drink from a bottle of wine while doing a handstand, the rest of our group had returned so we all headed back to the hostel. 

 The next morning I woke up early to take advantage of the complementary breakfast that ended at 8. I'm pretty sure it was only free because no one actually gets up in time; only three other people were there, and one of them was Lachlan who had asked me to wake him up. So we ate our fill of croissants and loaded up our pockets with the rest. We headed out that morning with no plan in mind, but it ended up being one of my favorite days. It also happened to be the day I accidentally left Paris.

We had only walked one block from our hostel when we found a huge outdoor book market. They had everything from antique manuscripts and maps, to children's books and unfortunately, Twilight.

We managed to spend a couple hours wandering the stalls, a good portion of which was chatting with one talkative seller about his collection of strictly Isaac Asimov novels. As we were getting ready to leave, I turned around to take a picture, and one book stood out to me. Propped up in a place of honor was L'Élégance du Hérisson. The English translation of the book is one of my favorites, so it has been a life goal of mine to find it and read it in its original language. 

As we were leaving the book market, we ran into the Russian from the night before and two others, Johnny and Georgie, so we changed directions and followed them to the market they had heard about. It turned out to be the Marché aux Puces, one of the most famous flea markets. With hundreds of stalls, there was an overwhelming amount of kitschy garden gnomes, sterling silver spoons, and American army apparel that had been abandoned in the fields after World War II. 

When it was finally nearing lunch time, we walked a couple blocks farther to find a supermarket and bakery. The amazing thing about France is how easy it is to find cheap food. When the 5 of us pitched in a few euros each, we were able to get two different cheeses, two baguettes, some ham, tomatoes, olives, a pie, and two bottles of wine. We carried our haul to a nearby park where we sat down for a picnic. Pictured: me, Lachlan, Russian, Johnny, and the key cards we used to slice the cheese. Not pictured: Georgie, one of the very rare lone travelers of the female variety. 

When a bird came and perched on Lachlan's knee and the bells of the little chapel nearby started ringing, Johnny summed up everyone's thoughts perfectly: "This feels like a scene from a movie I would never watch."

Unfortunately Johnny, Georgie, and the Russian all had to leave to catch their various planes, trains, and automobiles. It was then that we realized we had absolutely no idea where we were. We brought out a map of the city and traced our steps right off the bottom edge. Without knowing it, we had actually crossed the city's border into a cute suburb, Issy-les-Moulineaux. After pointing our comrades north and wishing them luck, Lachlan and I chose to stay in the small commune and explore. But lying in the sun with a feast in our stomachs, our plans of exploring were quickly abandoned in favor of reading our new French books. By the time I woke up from my unintentional nap, the chapel bells were signalling 6pm and we reluctantly left the charming park to find food.

That night, a Chinese couple initially joined us for a stroll along the Champs-Élysées, but when they wanted to go to the McDonald's, we parted ways and headed towards the Seine with our baguettes. Walking along the river, we witnessed what might have been the greatest cop chase ever. One incredibly inebriated man ran by us in a tattered Napoleonic army uniform, and two policemen on rollerblades were struggling to follow him on the cobblestone path. All three of them were tripping so often that it really looked like a slapstick comedy. After that our night couldn't possibly get any better, so we started the long trek back to our beds. 

The next day I moved to my final hostel right down the street. When I walked in the door the first person I saw was Georgie. Apparently she and Johnny had both missed their buses the night before. Johnny chose to rent a scooter with some South African guys and take off on a road trip to Nice. Georgie chose the safer route, and together with Lachlan we all shared a great last day in Paris. 

We first headed towards Place de la Bastille where the infamous prison once stood. The setting for the country's most important revolutionary act is now a roundabout with a monument in the center, but for a couple history buffs it was still really cool. Walking just a little farther down the street, we found a fresh food market, so of course we had a picnic. This time, we lounged in the grass next to the Seine with delicious fruits to go with our bread, and cheese. After satisfying our picnic quota for the day, we continued on a stroll through the fascinating district, le Marais. The cheap little vintage boutiques mixed with the haute couture department stores makes it the best shopping area in the city for everyone. That night, we decided to treat ourselves and eat dinner at a real restaurant. We sat on the terrace and split a bruschetta before each ordering one of the cheapest possible options. Since we were all leaving early in the morning, we had dessert at the restaurant and then headed straight back to the hostel. That night when I climbed into my bed and looked out the window, the Eiffel Tower was just lighting up, saying goodbye. 

When we parted ways at the train station, Lachlan just smiled and asked "You just got addicted to traveling didn't you?" And there's no doubt that's true. This trip has been amazing, and I can't wait to keep traveling and experiencing as much as I can in my lifetime. 

Bienvenue à Saint Malo

So I realized I have yet to post pictures of Saint Malo, and that's truly a crime. This is a beautiful city and I am lucky to be able to spend so much time exploring it. 

The city's history stretches back to medieval days, when it was actually an island fortress. Since then, its ports have been home to pirates and explorers alike.

Most notably, Jacques Quartier departed from Saint Malo to explore the new world and settle what would become Quebec. There are monuments to him and the Canadian colonies throughout the city. 

Today, it's the top tourist destination in Brittany. Being right across the channel from England, it's considered an Anglo-Franco village because so many Brits spend their summers in the cottages and hotels lining the beach, but I still don't hear English nearly as often as I did in Paris.

The main city centre is the walled portion, called les Intra-Muros. From the outside, you see the ramparts lined with the flags of Saint Malo, Bretagne, France, and the European Union. 

And of course, no fortress wall is complete without cannons!

When you pass through one of the gates, you can choose to climb up to the wall or wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Walking on the wall around the entire city gives you incredible views of the little shops within,

and of the many beaches and the ocean on the other side.

It turns out Saint Malo is known throughout Brittany as having the most dramatic tides. At night the ocean reaches right up to the walls, sometimes spilling over onto the path, but when the tide is out it is finally possible to walk out to the island Grand Bé where Chateaubriand is buried. 

Inside the walls is a bustling and charming village. There are souvenir shops, candy stores, artist galleries, and my favorite: the ultimate seaside French village cliché store with only striped clothing.

And then there are the bistros, crêperies, patisseries, and seafood restaurants. I could easily eat at a different place every day for a whole summer without visiting them all. But when you live with the family that owns the number 1 rated crêperie in Saint Malo, there's not really a point to even trying! La Crêperie Margaux is situated in an adorable square with gardens and a fresh vegetable market. I would describe it some more, but I think the crêpes deserve their own post really. 

After wandering this maze of streets every day, I have started to notice that the street performers are on very regular schedules. For example, this guy sets up his magic show in a courtyard every day from 5 to 7, after which a contortionist pirate takes his place.

One of the most prominent historical attractions within the walls is the St. Vincent Cathedral. I haven't been able to go inside since they're restoring it, but it's very impressive from the outside. 

Also, at night it kinda looks like Hogwarts, so that's pretty awesome :)

 

I am still not bored with wandering the streets and walking along the seemingly infinite beaches. But there are still so many other places in Brittany alone to see! 

Let's have a picnic! Pt. 1

My time alone in Paris naturally splits itself into two categories. Today's post takes place in Montmartre, the beautiful village on the hill overlooking Paris. When my dad first left me, I was both nervous and excited. But by the end of that first day on my own, it was clear that I was going to have an amazing time. 

Since I had several hours before I could check in to my first hostel, I decided to explore the neighborhood. At this point I accidentally started my mission of traveling mapless, so after wandering for a while I happened to emerge at the back door of the Sacre Cœur cathedral.

 It was a beautiful day so I bought a baguette and sat down on the grass to listen to some street performers play a few Eric Clapton songs. After a short while, a young man approached me and asked my name. When I gave it to him he scribbled it down on a piece of paper, said I had beautiful eyes, and walked away leaving me with a free drawing of myself. It was just the start of many (what I have now concluded are more enchanting than creepy) surprises that Paris had in store for me. 

When I finally checked in, the first thing I did was make a friend. A Canadian named Lorne had just broken his leg in Amsterdam and lost his wallet in the Paris airport, so I took pity on him and made it my goal to make sure his trip was still amazing! Luckily, he had a very happy and optimistic attitude and his friends (Pascal, Zach, and Micah) had the same mission as me. It also doesn't hurt that Paris is never anything less than amazing. So since he couldn't climb the Eiffel Tower that night and drink champagne at the top like he had planned, I suggested we buy some wine and cheese and have a picnic underneath it instead. He loved it:

It was the first of many picnics for me, but they never got old. And I finally got a picture of me under the lit up tower:

The next day, it was this group that I took on a tour of the Louvre. Even though he had to hobble with cheap Dutch crutches, Lorne was the most enthusiastic and was constantly laughing. Even after we had finished with the Louvre they wanted a tour of the rest of Paris. I absolutely loved getting to share what I had learned about the city, and they loved not being lost all the time. I was sad to see that group leave later that day, but their contagious happy attitudes had set the scene for an amazing week to come. 

My second night, I met Scott the athletic trainer and half his New Zealand professional field hockey team (seriously I couldn't make this up if I tried). They were celebrating a recent win at a tournament that made them contenders for the Olympics. Only Scott was staying in Paris through the night, but it was a blast hanging out with the rowdy kiwis for a while! After that I headed down to see who I could meet at my hostel's bar. John and Richie, two boys from Ohio, invited me to join the card game they were just starting with Romy, an Australian girl. When I said I was from Michigan, John started singing "Hail to the Victors" and we were instantly friends. Richie was an OSU fan, but we got over our differences eventually once we decided the more important rivalry was in our game of euchre. 

By the time Scott rejoined our group at the hostel bar, happy hour had come and gone. So we grabbed our coats and headed out with the mission of finding the free dinner and salsa dancing lessons that we had heard about. We never did find the dancing - instead we found ourselves in a park next to the Seine having, you guessed it, a picnic! But between all of us and our phones, we had quite a large playlist of music. So we improvised the dance moves and called what we did salsa dancing.

Since we were all staying another night, we stuck together and tried again. The second time, we found ourselves under the Eiffel Tower instead. At this point I resigned to the fact that with new groups of people, I would most likely visit the Eiffel Tower several times. I did indeed visit it often, but each time was a different and fun experience.

The next day, when the group split up to visit different things, I realized I had already checked almost everything off my list of things to see in Paris. That even included the clichés like mimes

and matching couples.

So I got to spend the day just exploring the many bookstores and little shops. When I discovered a small, secluded courtyard, I laid down in the grass and pretended to sleep for a while as I eavesdropped on the only other people's conversation. It was encouraging how much of it I understood! I only had a problem when the girl got really upset about something and started talking fast and at an almost supersonic pitch. She was either very angry at her diet or I was just hearing food words because I was hungry. Regardless, I wandered to my new hostel to find some company for dinner. 

Again, I happened to find John and Richie along with a Londoner named Alex. We all went out to find some cheap food which ended up being Domino's (Dad, I finally made use of the buy one pizza get two free deal!), and then decided to wander and see where the night took us. There's a crazy motif about my adventures aimlessly wandering - I almost always ended up at the back of Sacre Cœur. The cathedral was even more gorgeous lit up, and the view that is incredible enough during the daytime turned into a picturesque glimpse of the City of Lights. We sat in silence for a while just appreciating the beautiful city before heading back. On the way, we passed the minorly famous cabaret, "Au Lapin Agile" where artists like Toulouse-Lautrec spent their time. Apparently at night it still opens, and we all agreed we needed to have a beer in the iconic building. It was also one of the only times I remembered to take a picture. This is John, Alex, me, and Richie (and a sign I didn't notice until now that says Callaghan & Co!)

It was a fantastic couple days. The people I met were all unique and wonderful, and I got to feel like I was really a part of the city. When I come back to Paris (when not if), I can only hope I have as good of an experience as this.