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Funny Travel Stories
Victory Road: My First Solo Trip: Part 1
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The Globe Junkie
So with all other things being considered for this trip, somehow it never occurred to me to actually invest in a camera. No, instead I was using my LG aristo I had for a year for photos. To me the photos were just a thing, secondary. I didn’t put too much weight into them, not at that point at least. I maneuvered under the massive arch of L’Arc and tyring to quickly and discreetly take my pics, feeling shy about taking photos in public in general, something I really had never done before. Back home I never took photos really and in previous trips to Germany I never did because my dad always took photos with his actual camera.
Dear reader, literally everything on this trip was new ground for me. Nevertheless, on my way away from L’Arc de Triomphe, I started to notice the more numerical little differences in Paris, the streetsigns, the style of the buildings. All of which, compared to other cities is not that huge but the biggest thing was the sudden lack of English being spoken and sudden emergence of French. It’s very obvious of course and not like I didn’t know that in Paris they would speak French but it hit different when I actually heard it. Back home, I would tune the majority of random bystanders going about their day speaking something in English but I guess here my ear was working overtime to try and find meaning in every little line I heard with my limited French knowledge. And through those instances I realized how unprepared I was. I couldn’t understand a damn thing.
love yourself always
It struck like a mallet to the gut, another giant rush of cold. This time not just as a surprise but a threat. I felt so weird in that moment, not weird in the sense of a strange feeling but weird in the sense that i had become abnormal. I was a fish out of water, except you know not dying, at least only on the inside. It was as though I stepped foot on another planet, and suddenly the fact that I was utterly alone finally sank in. As if to counter this feeling, my feet wouldn’t permit me to stop and so I kept walking, almost trancelike. The glimmering tip of the Eiffel Tower shone bright in the distance and I kept walking towards it.
Still not Paris, I was trash at photos then. Vegas once more
I noticed how slim the streets were compared to the Bay Area and how casually pedestrians and cyclists alike engaged in jaywalking, not perturbed by the bright little traffic lights to cross the roads that were about 20 seconds worth of foot time to cross. Businessmen and women walked past me, leaving me feeling even more out of place with my huge worn down backpack and gaudy little computer case. Nevertheless, I inched ever closer to the Eiffel Tower until I reached a bridge leading directly to it. Suddenly the throngs of tourists revealed themselves and foot traffic became immense. I stopped at the bridge, finally able to marvel at the overwhelming size and scope of France’s most iconic structure. There’s a surrealness to finally seeing something like the Eiffel Tower, something that seems like it’s only supposed to exist in postcards or travel shows. You can’t really take it in as a natural thing, or at least not when you’re in the type of mindset I was in.
even if there’s no reason to
I had this disposition against taking selfies for some reason. It wasn’t very well thought out or coming from a real place of annoyance, I just decided to fit in with the trend of dissing selfies. Therefore, when the time came to take a selfie by the Eiffel Tower, I tried to wait until noone was around and nobody could see me. Why did that matter? I don’t know but it did in the moment. I made the ugliest face you could possibly imagine, teeth bulging out of my cheeks, and clicked on my phone. So now I had my selfie with the Eiffel Tower. I shoved my phone back into my pocket before any strangers could pass judgment on my character as a filthy vain tourist. Then, I made my way to the foot of the Tower, planning to go up it if possible.
even if there’s no reward immediately
I joined this large crowd walking along the side of the tower. There is a walk area around it and the entire park which the Eiffel Tower sits on. I should probably know the name. Should I look it up for this? Hmm… What do you think? (This is one of those Dora the Explorer type moments where I wait for the audience to answer my question before continuing) Okay, one google search done. It’s apparently called Le Parc du Champs de Mars or Field of Mars Park. Anyways, I personally am not a very big fan of large crowds and so I sift my way through them in a fervor, trying to get to the entrance area which is so far unclear. Suddenly this woman approaches me speaking English. To be honest, I forgot what she looked like but she had these papers in her hand and a clipboard, asking me if I would sign her petition to assist the deaf out.
