Although I'm so sad to see this beautiful city go, I say goodbye with bittersweet breath. After a delightful last day of Sacre Coeur, catacombs, faire de magasins and one last crepe avec jambon, oignons, fromage, pomme de terre et salade, we headed toward the train station. That's where it all went bad. Running all the way across Paris to get that delectable crepe, pushed the time limit and left Rebbie, Jordyn and me running through the Gare du Nord to pick up our luggage and run madly around the terminal looking for our train. It was at Passport control that I realized I didn't have just that.
It was in the bag which my lovely roommate Lauren had so kindly picked up for me because we were late. I frantically tried to tell my friends where my passport could be in the bag as they were going through border patrol and onto the train which was holding my bag where my passport was nestled safely between my well-worn keds and fake Juicy Couture perfume. Mind you, our train is supposed to leave in mere minutes. As my friends tore through my dirty socks and cardigans, I sat in limbo between customs and passport control with tears running down my American face which chocked up my few French words about how I need to go to England. During this whole mess I'm trying not to look at my watch as much as possible but I can't help but notice that my train is leaving very, very soon (forgive the lack of particulars, my watch doesn't have numbers on its face) and I am still an American who needs to go to England but is stuck in France.
Just as I'm imagining myself going back to the hotel we just checked out of, with my metro card that just expired and find the American Embassy where I can wait in line for a week and get a new passport; a few security personnel approach me and start asking me all these questions in French, English and probably a little Spanish, with which all I could reply with was "J'ai perdu mon passport et j'ai besoin d'aller au l'Angleterre!" Finally, one of them asks me my name and I respond with Je m'appelle Alexandra Thomas (thanks Ann!) and he hands me the most beautiful little blue book I've ever seen: my PASSPORT! Now with tears of joy I run like Pocahontas when she dances with the colors of the wind through security and relax. A little bit like my friend Anna.
Apart from the stress at the end there, there were definitely some fabulous times to be had in the city of love.
A little photo session on the top of the Eiffel Tower at dusk
As beautiful as that was, I don't think it topped the absolutely divinely inspired Greek crepe (I know right?) we had on La Rue Mouffetard. TOO good. This is the one that almost got me stranded in France.
As you can see by my face it was totally worth it.