My missing blog

You might have noticed that I skipped a day on my blog. I'm upset about it too, but I have a good reason. On the evening of my boat ride, I watched the people on the Seine with warmth, and some jealousy too. I didn't know then that in a few short hours, I would arrive at my hostel and meet a girl and boy from California, who go to Westmont College and are close friends with my friend in high school. Being in such a small world, they invited me to their table full of students from the US and Great Britain. Before I knew it, we were on the metro on our way to the Seine to do just as the Parisians do (Well, in English). This was the night of my first European all-nighter, and it was fantastic. We shared our experiences, suggestions, horror stories, and ideas. When we asked the British boy questions, he often wouldn't answer, as he refused to shout over everyone like we Americans do. I laughed at this and admired his acceptance. One of the great things about being abroad and around other traveling students is that nearly everyone is open to understanding one another, nonjudgmental, and not afraid to make mistakes. People have embraced the bittersweet fact that the others you meet are in your life briefly. There is something magical about not getting too attached to people and places and things. Or to plans. Many travelers I've met have missed a train or don't know where their next destination might be, and there is an ease that comes with that. My itinerary, while I tried to restrict it to my first four days, would have brought me out of Paris early this week. But because of my inexperience at reserving trains, finding stations on the map, even having to pay for wifi all led me to stay for six days in Ile d'France, four of them in the heart of Paris. I had many amazing experiences during that time, and despite the Euros wasted on cancelled bookings and last-minute train reservations, I couldn't be happier with the journey it became.

So I continue on now to Bruges, Belgium, with a heartache for the city of love but a comfortable au revior, which if I spoke French would not be goodbye, but see-you-soon. (Although I will pat myself on the back: at every brasserie, I ordered in French until I reached my limit of communication or until the waiters noticed my accent and quickly switched to English, of which most of them knew at least a little. During my time in Paris I quickly became impressed with the number of languages that Parisians and European travelers could speak. I think it says much about their cultural views.)

Now on the high-speed rail to Bruges, I've enjoyed the scenic views as I flew by them from my window seat, and the darling, delicious breakfast on the train. Since I missed my train, evidenced by the gnarly scrape on my knee I got from running for it, I had to take the next one, which cost me a little extra sum, but for two Euros more I could ride first class, which served the dainty breakfast that made up for my mistake. Plans change and things happen, but I'm learning that it's all about letting go and enjoying the ride.

Pictures: okay, so I went back to stay longer and took a picture of the tower at night... Let's say I did it for you ;)

I had the best French onion soup ever before I parted with Paris... although here it's just onion soup.