Dear Nancy: A Love Letter

Dear Nancy (the town in France),

I think I’m in love with you. I don’t know if I was just feeling the romance in the air and/or getting caught up in the ridiculous hype that is Valentine’s Day, but I think this is real. I think I love you.

It all started the day before V day. The crew and I took the non-TGV (the RER) from Reims, so it took seemingly forever to get to you, but dang was it worth it. The moment I stepped out of that train station and saw the gorgeous neogothic towers of Église St Léon, I had butterflies.

The night got progressively better as we found our way through your charming streets to a little pizza place tucked into a quiet nook. The staff spoke fairly good English but were willing to let us butcher their mother tongue to help us practice, so we spoke in Franglish (a language that I’m quickly becoming very familiar with). After scarfing down a whole margherita pizza by myself and sharing a tiramisu, I handed my card over to our incredibly cute (but not as cute as you, don’t worry) waiter, and we hurried over to our hotel so we could check in before the concert started.

Side note: I’m 99% that this is the way the majority of France and potentially Europe is, but I have to say that I really appreciate your lack of laws forbidding open containers of alcohol. It made getting a little champagne in before the show a lot easier. And another reason to love you, of course.

The Kooks are also a new love of mine. 

Anyway, multiple sips of cheap champagne later, we walked the short distance over to the venue and made it just in time to miss the opener that nobody had ever heard of. L’Autre Canal is a super cool and modern venue with a lobby that’s 99% red, lights and all, so that definitely helped set the mood for this love affair.

A pint of beer bought with a few plastic coins of this weird fake currency later, we were jamming out to some of my favorite alternative hits. I'm fairly sure that we were five of the only Americans in attendance because we definitely were the only ones in our vicinity receiving weird looks from excessive dancing and singing/screaming at the top of our lungs. YOLO. Also, I would never betray you Nancy, but I have to admit I’ve since developed a crush on Bleachers lead singer Jack Antonoff and The Kook’s Luke Pritchard. There’s something about those musician types.

After we left the concert-definitely one of the top three I’ve ever been to-we freshened up at the hotel before wandering around until we could find a bar. A group of a few of your adorable inhabitants told us that everything was closed, but we realized that we shouldn’t ask 14-year-olds where to find bars because we found one about five minutes later. The bartender was rude but there were American movie posters lining the walls and a 40-year-old man DJing on his MacBook, so it was too bizarre not to appreciate.

When we each finished our drink we made our way down the street to find another bar. The nearest was on last call, so we decided that buying two tall Desperados (the most delicious combination of tequila and beer that you’ll ever find) and splitting them amongst the five of us back at the hotel was the best way to end the night. We were right. Just another reason to love you, Nancy: your booze joints are open until 2am.

After a late night of making memories with good friends, we were tired. Unfortunately, I was stuck on a pullout couch with Kenz and Paul, but I was in such a loving daze that I fell right asleep.

Although I didn’t quite get a full night’s rest-I woke up at 9am to 6 inches worth of space left for me to sleep in-nothing could get me down. I looked out the window and found the sun beginning to peek out from behind the French wintertime’s staple grey clouds. You look good in the sunshine, Nancy.

Here's a blurry picture of the crew and I having fun. 

Two alarms and a warm “HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!!” greeting later, the rest of the team was awake (except for Paul...I had to pull a mom move and open the blinds to get him out of bed). We prepared for our day of exploring to the soundtrack of early 2000s pop and the taste of delicious, free hotel tea, so I was a happy camper.

The tea wasn’t really a sufficient breakfast, however, so we filled our stomachs at a nearby boulangerie. My panini took a solid 15 minutes to prepare for reasons that are still unknown, but I’m not mad at you Nancy, I promise. First, we made our way back to a nearby cathedral that we had passed and gawked at the night before. It turned out to be Notre Dame de L’Annonciation, which is just one of the many breathtaking places that make you so beautiful, love. After taking way too many pictures, marveling at the ornate architecture and pondering the reason behind all the pyramid symbols etched into random walls and doors, we were off to look for some sweets.

Seriously though, someone explain the pyramid.

Now, I just want to make it clear that the crew and I had dubbed this day, often mistaken as Single Person Awareness Day, “Treat Yo Self Day.” We’re a bunch of single young people studying abroad, so we decided that feeling bad for ourselves/harping on our lack of valentines was not worth our time. I have you as a valentine Nancy, so that’s all I’ll ever need.

Naturally, we had to buy some French pastries. The problem was that we couldn’t decide which of the obscenely mouthwatering window displays to give in to, so thankfully a kind Frenchman who spoke English pointed us in the right direction (we were walking away when he told us that this was the best place in Nancy, and we were quickly convinced). Thank God he was so persuasive/we were so easily persuaded because I’m not sure that my taste buds will ever be the same after that chocolate slice of heaven. I couldn’t even tell you what I got, but what I know is that it was some sort of chocolate meringue thing that sort of made me want to cry, it was so good. The fact that I ate it at a quaint wrought iron table on the gorgeous Place Stanislas probably helped as well. You’re too good to me, Nancy.

After we walked under Arc Héré, we found ourselves on the cutest street I’ve seen in France, which is a pretty bold statement.  It was almost sickening, it was so cute. We passed a boulangerie with a heart-shaped baguette in the window, a fromagerie donning a Christmas-themed teddy bear and a restaurant with an antique bicycle chilling below the second floor window (apparently they have a thing for peculiar yet charming exterior decor on this street). Then, we ran into the best statue I’ve seen so far in this country, which is another bold statement, but I couldn't help but be a fan since it was of my girl Jeanne d’Arc (AKA the original BA independent woman, Joan of Arc).

I really don't think that any words can describe how delicious this was. 

The almost uncontrollable quaintness continued as we walked around aimlessly, somehow hitting all the main sites in town without intending to (turns out that we were in the “Ville Vieille,” AKA old town). Who knew that the amazingly intricate exterior of Basilique Saint Epvre, the medieval architectural wonders of Porte de la Craffe and Musée Lorrain and the uniquely teal-colored spires of Palais Ducal were all within five minutes of each other? Well, better-educated tourists would know that, I suppose, but I don’t regret our lack of research. In fact, I think that’s why I’ve come to love you so much Nancy, you’re just so fun to discover.

Before the dark, ominous clouds that had been following us all day decided to discontinue their generous dry spell, we made it to one more church-St. Jean Bosco, which we visited only because because I kept annoyingly telling everyone to “follow the pretty spire”-and one more arch. This one was a memorial, Porte Désilles, which was built to commemorate the citizens of Nancy that died while fighting in the American Revolutionary War. No wonder we felt such as attachment to it.
As the downpour began and every inch of our being was soaked to the core, we decided it was time to head back to the train station. We got there about an hour early, but it was rejuvenating to take refuge inside, especially after I ordered un chocolat chaud avec une tarte citron. You know, because it was Treat Yo Self Day.

Long story short, I have a new place in my heart for you Nancy. You’re sweet, beautiful, easy to navigate and always full of surprises. I don’t think this will be the last time I see you.

Sincerely,
Your Not-So-Secret Admirer

Grand Rue under the dark ominous clouds that couldn't get us down because Nancy rocks.

Paris Trip #2 in Bullet Points

Let's recap what I did yesterday because I'm not feeling like writing in paragraphs like a normal person:

Chapter One: Getting There

Missed this girl-so glad she came to Paris!

• Woke up at 6am to meet Kenzie and walk to the station at 6:50
• Waited for Kenzie (but not nearly as long as last time-kudos to you for waking up to your alarm this time around, champ)
• Somehow, miraculously ran into Paul on the street (proud of you for waking up too, bud)
• Made it to the TGV on time, which was a big deal for us
• Saw a lady with neon green hair and matching neon green accessories on the TGV 
• Saw an adorable chocolate lab at the station and did everything I could to keep from bending over and kissing it repeatedly
• Successfully navigated the Paris metro like it was my job
• Quickly lost confidence when I almost got us lost once we got off the metro
• Quickly regained confidence when I successfully communicated with a French bakery worker in order to get directions (which were great directions, I may add)
• Made it to Katie's hostel in one piece

Chapter Two: It's Gotta Be Uphill From Here 

Skull boy in cool avant-garde church

• Met up with Katie (AKA my platonic soul mate) and her friend Ryan at their hostel
• Attempted to find Moulin Rouge by wandering Montmartre and climbing a ridiculous amount of stairs/hills
• Asked a nice-looking old man how to get to Moulin Rouge (keep in mind that it was probably (9:30am at this point) and he looked at me like he was very confused as to what I wanted to do there, but gave me directions nonetheless
• Attempted to follow nice frenchman's directions but failed
• Found a cool church instead
• Decided to go into said church
• Took a lot of pictures of said church, whose name I unfortunately forgot to take note of 
• Admired their alternative, hipsteresque stained glass windows that featured a fully clothed man with a skull for a head and a weird dragonesque thing that is most definitely not in the Bible [EDITORIAL NOTE: apparently Satan is actually, at one point, depicted in dragon form in the Bible, I googled it so it's probably legit. My b.]
• Found our way back to the hostel somehow (lots of walking uphill-Montmartre is a workout)
• Met up with the rest of the Mizzou Pamplona exchange kids
• Paul and Kenz sneaked some hostel bread because it was breakfast time at said hostel and we're young travelers who need fuel for getting up and down all said hills (also, they didn't eat breakfast unlike my over prepared self who woke up early in order to ensure that I got my daily rice cake with knock-off nutella in)
• More stairs, then off to the metro to show our fellow tigers how to get cheap day passes

Chapter Three: On Top of the World 

La Madeleine (look closely for said gold cross)

• Took the metro with Katie, Paul and Kenz to La Madeleine
• Appreciated the fact that whoever's doing reconstruction on the front of the church had the decency to hide some of the scaffolding with a big golden cross
• Meandered around and took way too many pictures with poor lighting
• Admired the neoclassical architecture and beautiful organ music that we were lucky enough to get a taste of
• Stopped and sat for a while in order to ponder life/mostly just to rest our feet
• Walked to L'Opera Garnier
• Ooed and ahhed at the gold-tipped spires of the building's exterior
• Got Paul to take a pic of us girls
• Forced Paul to take a picture with Kenz
• Stopped and listened to a cute Irishman with the voice of an angel sing covers of popular American songs (in a way that sounds a lot better than the people who originally sing them)
• Walked to Galleries Lafayette and gawked at the sick ceiling (that means cool)
• Got judged for walking into Louis Vuitton because we're peasants compared to the people legitimately shopping there
• Took a Princess Diaries-style foot pop pic with Katie in front of the Chanel No. 5 sign
• Bought overpriced yet freaking delicious macaroons and went up to the terrace on the 7th floor
• Ate said macaroons together while overlooking the whole city (c'est magnifique)
• Mentally pinched myself to remind myself what I was actually looking at
• Sat and admired the beauty that is Paris-especially on a rare sunny day-before heading back downstairs
• Saw weird bunny-children mannequins
• Hung around/loitered because wifi 

Chapter Four: Food and Children and Churches; A Few of My Favorite Things

My beloved gnomon at Sainte Sulpice

• Ate lunch at Paul because it's fantastic and I wanted Paul to try Paul
• Savored said lunch, which consisted of a three cheese pizza and raspberry tart
• Headed over to Notre Dame/the lock bridge on the metro
• Forced Paul to take and be in more pictures
• Contemplated the reasoning behind the long line at Notre Dame (Katie said that people were in line to kiss some unidentified artifact the day before)
• Found the Pamplona kid's lock on the bridge
• Witnessed an anti-lock bridge dude pull locks off and throw them into the river
• Crossed the bridge and went to Shakespeare and Company Bookstore (AKA God's gift to the Earth/one of my new favorite places)
• Fell in love with the bookstore and its nooks and crannies (antique books + small spaces + cushioned bay window benches + typewriters + history + old school, hipster vibe = perfect place to get lost in a book. Definitely coming back here someday just to sit and read)
• Bought some books as gifts for people back home and got real stoked about it
• Wandered around the Latin Quarter towards Jardin du Luxembourg and ran into Musée de Cluny, La Sorbonne and a weird train/car thing on the street along the way
• Sat and people watched/soaked up some sunny D at le jardin, which mainly consisted of me creeping on an adorable French child who looked like he was going to sail his toy boat in the fountain but never did (sad face)
• Visited one of my absolute favorite places, Saint Sulpice
• Geeked out over the gnomon (sort of like a sundial but cooler)
• Took a solid 15 min to read a plaque in French and understood it well enough to learn that the gnomon served as early evidence to the world's tilted axis and rotation around the sun (I sort of hate science so I'm not entirely sure why I find this fascinating, but I do)

Chapter Five: Sunsets and Goat Cheese Are the Best Way to End a Day

Sacre Coeur at sunset is my kinda Sacre Coeur

• Hopped back on the metro to finish the day at Sacre Coeur
• Accidentally wound up in a cemetery while attempting to walk to Sacre Coeur
• Somehow made it there with what little breath I had left after climbing all those stairs
• Saw the next best view of the city from the top of the hill
• Got lost in the colors of the sunset 
• Ended up going into the basilica twice since Ryan showed up after we had already gone through once (not complaining)
• Attempted to take artsy pics of candles and Jesus
• Caught the beginning of a French mass the second time we went in (very cool)
• Stared at the sunset and took more pictures because sunsets are all the rage
• Went back to Katie's hostel and chilled for a bit
• Went next door and ate the most delicious salad I've had in a long time (cucumber, tomato and ham with hot goat cheese-adorned toast on top. Heaven)
• Said goodbye to my best friend (it's cool, see you in a few weeks bud)

Paris likes to show off from the top of Montmartre at sunset. The trees were helping me do some natural framing.

The Weekend I Fell in Love With Paris (Again)

Paris. Some call it the city of lights, some call it the city of love. Me? I like to refer to it as the daydream that consumed most of my childhood.

For me, Paris was always like that high school crush that you could never get out of your head. You know, that person who you who were so infatuated with, it seemed like everyone knew except the object of infatuation themself. Thoughts of this person crept into your head so much that you couldn’t help but hope that they were thinking of you too. You spent way too much of your time imagining the possibilities of a relationship with said person, and you dreamt of the day that the world realized you’re meant to be together.

Notre Dame de Paris = gothic perfection.

Personally, I think Paris and I were meant for each other (my luck with guys isn’t so great, so I figure falling in love with a city is my next best bet). Ever since the day I attempted to scribble an Eiffel tower into my second grade writer’s journal, I knew that I would do whatever it took to be together one day.

That dream came true during the remarkable Christmas of 2005 when I opened a box full of Parisian memorabilia and was told our flight was leaving that June.

My grandma and my mom gave me the best present I could have ever asked for; the complete Paris experience. We explored countless gothic cathedrals, strolled down cobblestone streets lined with wrought-iron balconies and contemplated the surprisingly miniature nature of the Mona Lisa. Almost no site when unvisited, and I had absolutely no regrets. Paris was everything I imagined it would be.

But it wasn’t enough. Paris isn’t a one-time experience, at least not for me. Paris is the special kind of place with a million nooks and crannies that are just begging to be discovered. Every corner brings something new and exciting and beautiful, and going back a second time was even better than the first.

This time, I wasn’t a little middle schooler being lead around this magical city. Instead, I was acting as a pseudo guide for a group of friends who had yet to experience the wonder of Paris. I became “Dad” and Josephine became “Mom,” maneuvering the twists and turns of the metro like the dysfunctional but lovable family that we are.

The start of our day was tense, probably due to the fact that we were up way too late the night before at a club that was incredibly far from the comfort of our beloved beds. After corralling everyone into cabs, I packed my backpack and got two hours of sleep before my alarm reminded me that I had a 7:43 am train to catch.

Nothing like traveling with these hooligans. Here's our future album cover.  Paul, Mary, Josephine and I literally ran to the station and made our train just in time, but Kenzie and Julia were still in bed. After the four of us had already spent the morning gawking at the architecture of Notre Dame, strolling across the lock bridge and savoring an authentic Parisian brunch, the two of them showed up at Gare de L’Est and we met them at the station to help guide them through the maze that is the metro.

But the Mizzou-Reims crew doesn’t let petty things like a late start get in their way. We got ourselves together and headed to our adorable hostel (I highly recommend it-3 Ducks Hostel in the 15th arrondissement) before attempting to find the Eiffel tower. Someone had said it was only a 15-minute walk away but that was definitely false information because after 25 minutes of walking in the wrong direction, we realized that the metro was definitely our best bet.

Three transfers later, we walked into the sunlight (which is incredibly notable for France at this time of year) and saw her in all her shining glory. La Tour Eiffel: the world’s only all-iron structure worth taking a selfie with. About a thousand and two pictures and a few creepy strangers offering free candy later (that actually happened), we headed northeast towards Les Invalides. On the way, we came across a group of adorable Boy Scout look-alikes walking side-by-side, Madeline style, and singing some ridiculously charming French song. Naturally, we thought it would be a good idea if I pretended to be one of them and jump in line. What started off as a funny idea for a photobomb became possibly the world’s most epic Facebook cover photo.

I will never ever regret taking this photo.

After I was done creeping out young boys and we realized Les Invalides was closed, we had an awesome meal at Canon des Invalides, a nearby brasserie that we dubbed “our place.” My croque was to die for, but the apple crepe and chocolate mousse that we all shared afterwards was the real crowd pleaser.

I’m sad to say that until this moment, I had never seen Paris at night. Sure, I spent nearly a week there over ten years ago, but it was summer and I was young and we were too committed to our sleep patterns to stay out past the already late sunset. As semi-embarrassing as this is to admit, I’m actually happy that my first glimpse of Paris at night didn’t happen until recently because I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.

When we got back to the hostel that night, we sat and decompressed for a solid two hours before deciding that our state of sleep deprivation wasn’t serious enough to pass up a trip to the hostel bar. I enjoyed a pint of lefe rouge and some conversation with an enthusiastic Frenchman with poor English skills before turning into my claustrophobic yet unbelievably comfortable bottom bunk.We decided that the trek down the Champs-Élysées towards L’Arc de Triomphe would be a good way to end our first day, and I’ll never forget turning the corner onto the Pont Alexandre III bridge and seeing the blocks of extravagant buildings before us. Unfortunately, one of those buildings happened to be potentially the world’s most over-the-top Abercrombie & Fitch store, and I’m not proud to say that we paid it a visit. At least it generated some laughs...Kenzie got told to get off the grass and Julia and Mary took a picture with a model with very impressive abs.

Verhlac's tombstone, completely covered in flowers.

Most of the next morning was devoted to Pere Lachaise cemetery, where we climbed a great deal of stairs to get to the lipstick-stained tomb of Oscar Wilde. I gawked at the beautiful tombs, took way too many photos and almost got lost in this literal city of the dead before heading back down to see Jim Morrison’s humble yet fenced-off plot. The burial sites of these celebrities had little effect on me, however, compared to how it felt to see the gravesite of Charlie Hebdo shooting victim Bernard Verhlac. The 57-year-old’s tomb was entirely covered in fresh flowers, and the small crowd surrounding it all spoke in hushed tones out of respect.

After a nice and cheap lunch at Quick, the French equivalent of Burger King or McDonald’s (although they have both of those as well), I met up with an old friend from high school while the rest of the gang went to Musee d’Orsay for a few hours. I sipped on a wonderful chocolat chaude and nibbled on an even more wonderful banana and nutella crepe at a quaint table outside a cafe on rue cler while pretending to be a real Parisian. It was great.

I said my goodbyes to Ashley and enjoyed a beautiful stroll along the Seine to meet the others outside the museum. I was proud of myself for finding my way alone, despite the distractingly beautiful sunset that was yearning to be photographed.

Our makeshift family ended the day with a walk past the Louvre, through Le Jardin des Tuileries and ending at Place de la Concorde, where Kenzie finally got to take her much-anticipated Devil Wears Prada picture. We made our way towards the metro to find a cheaper cafe away from the pricey touristy areas and hopped on the TGV to go back home.

Just as I know it’ll flash through my head as I lay down for bed in a few minutes, the memory of the first time I saw the Eiffel tower sparkle will be forever imprinted on the walls of my brain, just as the rest of this quick but memorable weekend trip will be.