Why I'm Travelling France By Myself

As I'm writing this, my feet are literally throbbing from 3 days spent in Las Vegas and wearing uncomfortable (for the sake of cuteness) shoes.  However, most things I could comment on about my Las Vegas experience would come off as a social critique, and I'm not in that kind of a mood right now.  (To sum it up, I probably won't be back.)

Instead, I'd rather talk about the adventure that lies ahead.  In about 36 hours, I'll be heading across the Atlantic and landing in Paris, before travelling to the Cote d'Azur.  France has always been alluring... I knew I was in love with the Parisian life at the ripe age of 2, when my all-time idol was Madeline.

It was from my initial exposure to the cartoon that I secured my first trip to France: a trip to Paris for my 10th birthday.  Memories of creamy fondue, gargoyles, the Louvre, and of course the magnificent Tour d'Eiffel resonated with me years after I left.  I'll never forget how a rainy night turned into a snow-laced wonderland after climbing the height to the top level of the Eiffel Tower.  It was nothing short of magical.

It was another 7 years before I would return to the city, this time as a junior in high school and freshly educated of the mysteres of the Lost Generation (Ezra Pound had especially made une impression).

I was determined to not only visit "the sites", but to soak up the culture as much as I could.  I tracked down Le Select cafe, where Scott F. Fitgerald would frequently spend all day writing, just so that I could witness his inspiration.  

I thrived on the Champs-Elysee, shopping through the flagship Louis Vuitton store, along with other luxury fashion houses.  And we won't even talk about the wonderstruck that occurred in Au Printemps or Galleries Lafayette.  

And of course then, I saw "the sights", revisiting the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Musee d'Orsay, Notre Dame, l'Arc d'Triumphe... etc...

Paris is magical.  And apparently the rest of France is as well.  So when I developed an itch to explore the country further, and since I have already explored the cosmopolitan city of Paris, I decided on a new destination: the south of France.  It's where the French take their month long vacations in August, and it was where I wanted to take my week long adventure in May. 

I'm not calling this a vacation, because vacations are things you go on to spend time with the people that you love.  This adventure is being embarked on alone.

Ever since I made up my mind to trek the French Riviera solo, I've received a lot of inquiries as to "Why...?"

And I just can't think of a good answer, except for that I feel like truly losing myself in my own wanderings and wonderings for a week.  I can't wait to explore open-air markets, museums, and boutiques;  I can't wait to search for the tastiest patisseries and sip on cafe au laits while indulging in a good book;  and I can't wait to tip-toe on the pebbled beaches of Nice and stroll along the Promenade des Anglais.  

Not that I wouldn't enjoy these indulgences with the company of others, but there is something special about travelling alone.  There is definite value in being able to be content by oneself... And there is magic when you discover not only being content, but joyful.  If you can be happy with yourself, you can be happy with anybody.  

I'll be gone for about a week and a half, and I'll be blogging along the way.  So stay tuned, and stay fabulous!