In December of 2017, I was in France for a little over a week. I was there for a writers' retreat in Provence (which was life changing and worth its own blog post later) but I stayed abroad for a few days after the retreat in order to fulfill a lifelong dream of going to Paris. I had traveled alone before, but never alone overseas or for this long. I learned so much about myself and about life, and of course I had a great time exploring.
When I travel I like to have a few places and activities in mind but I don't like to plan the whole trip. A rigid itinerary is ok for professional matters but my idea of leisure does not include every moment of every day scheduled in advance. I like some spontanaeity and I have a sense of adventure—nothing wild but something like, for example, wandering down a street and seeing what I might run into along the way. Like this:
I didn't actually see the reflective wall but our chef from Provence (a real sweetheart in her early 20s from Rehoboth, Delaware who also went to Paris that same weekend) snapped the photo. We met up for late night drinks with the workshop leader and she showed it to me at the table.
"Art is a dirty job but somebody's got to do it."
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