In one of the most romantic cities, if not most romantic country, in the world let’s face it; it’s hard not to be reminded of that missing romance in your life. Whether it be the couples French kissing on the grassy banks of the Luxembourg gardens, the runaway cottages on Marie Antoinette’s estate, the love locks chained upon the bridges crossing the Seine River this “romance” is a constant reminder, search, and even allure. What exactly are we hunting for? Someone? Some place? Something? And why do we want it so badly?
The dramatized theatricality of the beauty of wine tasting and long train rides shared with our significant other somehow convinces us of the importance and memorability of an experience. As if the romance has the power to fulfill a special uniqueness that any “ordinary” experience with any other “ordinary” person lacks. But do you always need some “significant other” to share it with and can’t you find your own romance for yourself? Each person’s “romance” is subjective no doubt. My trip to Paris would be described best as romantic in my memorable unique experiences rather than that of intimate, passionate love one tends to think when idealizing this Romance Capital.
Getting caught in the rain without an umbrella on the first day
The everlasting bipolar climate disorder of the city: one minute grey skies, the next minute clear blue
Incredible vistas from Notre Dame and Sacre Couer
Fois gras, mustards, and preserves packaged in their sweet little tins
Picnicking any chance it wasn’t raining
Impromptu salsa dancing along the Seine
Underground cave jazz dives
You don’t always need a romantic partner to discover your own internal romance with the city around you.