“I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” – Mark Twain
Travel was something that has been in my blood for a long time. Life circumstances, and choices curtailed that for most of my life. In 2009 I started to travel again. I made the mistake of agreeing to catch up with certain friends in Paris for a few days, and it was disastrous (full story below).
I travel on my own because it’s easier. It forces me to interact with people. I can explore places that people would be a bit squeamish about. I get to do my own thing. When I’m tired I can lay in bed all day and order room service without caring what anyone else thinks.
One of my biggest joys while I travel is getting lost in some where new. To immerse myself into the culture. Eat street food, talk to people, sit in a cafe or square and watch the world go by. It let’s me ponder, and clear my head.
It is one of those places I’m well and truly free.
My First Time in Paris
Everyone has that person they know that has to plan everything. The kind that walks around with a piece of paper, and sits down every night pouring over a spreadsheet to make sure they are on track. Little did I know I was to meet up with one of these people.
I was in Paris for 4 days, and planned to do some sightseeing but the rest of the time I wanted to soak up Parisian life, which meant, bars, cafes, nightclubs, and talking to people. The first day we checked out a number of sights including ‘The Louvre’,’The Eiffel Tower’, and a cruise along the Seine. It was a pleasant day. That night we all gathered for dinner, and just as it was breaking up I announced I was going to the Latin Quarter for a few drinks, and if anyone would like to join me. Miss organisation piped up, saying ‘oh, we have a big day planned tomorrow, so it might be better if we all get some sleep’. I glared, and went on my merry way.
I got in at stupid o’clock. I.e. the sun was up, to have Miss organisation try and give me further brain damage by screaming at me that I was ruining her holiday. I went to bed, and they left for the day. By lunch time I had checked out, and found my own place to stay. That night I met up with them for dinner once again, and explained my reasons why.
We didn’t speak for 3 years after that.