Visiting Paris & Rome 9 Years Later
I just returned from ten days in Europe with my two beautiful sisters.
We spent our first day in Rome and our last in Paris. To be honest, I didn’t want to go to either city. But I give the people what they want (and the flights were cheaper).
I considered writing city guides, but there are enough of those online. Eiffel tower. Colosseum. Snails. Pizza. Wine. You get it. Instead, I wanted to share some unsolicited stories about my previous experiences there.
I visited both cities for the first time in the summer of 2015 when I backpacked Europe alone. I have no photo evidence of that time, as I hated taking photos. Clearly, a lot has changed, including my sentiments towards both cities.
Paris
I got to Paris three weeks into my trip shortly after the couchsurfing debacle.
My hostel kicked me out within the first 12 hours. When I woke up, a security guard was standing by my bed, shaking his head in disappointment at the man beside me.
For context: I was 21. He was Australian. So it’s fine.
I begged the receptionist to stay for the free breakfast and used the slow wifi to reserve another stay. The next place refused to let me into my room until check in at 3PM. I was on a strict no-transportation budget which meant I spent HOURS walking around the city to kill time.
Hungover, sleep deprived, and exhausted, I fell asleep on a bench at the Louvre. Once again, a security guard woke me up from my slumber to kick me out. It was closing time.
At my new hostel, I heard some guys speaking through a window in the courtyard. I called out to them, “Americans!” My people.
They came down and the group of us (me and four dudes from Cali) went to a cafe. We were told by the waitress that the kitchen was closed before promptly serving a french man smoking a cigarette at the table beside us. She hated us.
I spent about three more days getting blisters on my feet and feeling despised by the locals. In hindsight, they were probably right.
Rome
Two weeks later, I arrived to Rome even more haggared and tired than Paris.
Unfortunately, I did not yet know how to properly use a map and I booked a hostel far outside the city center at a campsite in the woods.
To celebrate arriving in one piece after a FULL day of commuting, I decided to party at the campgrounds bar with kiwis (New Zealanders) on a group tour. They partied hard. I blacked out. I spent the next day recovering by the pool.
On the third day, I finally made it to the city center. Just kidding, I sprained my ankle walking down the stone steps at the camp. The workers refused to give me ice, insisting it was reserved for bar drinks only.
I didn’t have health insurance nor could I afford to seek out-of-pocket medical attention. There was only one thing left to do: party more, except this time while hopping around on one foot.
On day five, when I could finally apply some pressure on the ankle, I forced myself into the city to see what all the fuss was about.
When I arrived, half the city was under construction. The Trevi fountain literally had no water in it. The air was HOT and DRY. There were more foreigners than Italians because they knew better than to be in Rome mid August. And I kept getting smacked by selfie sticks, the trending travel accessory at the time.
I dragged my foot back to camp, packed my bags, and headed south to the quieter (at the time) Amalfi coast.
Nine Years Later
Turns out, Rome isn’t always under construction. The air is actually pleasant in September. And although the cobblestone streets were intense, my ankles remained un-swollen and relatively unbothered.
Apparently, Parisians are incredibly lovely. All of the wait staff I encountered this time were kind and patient, even when they barely spoke English. Not sure if the summer Olympics warmed them up (and/or their pockets).
My sisters and I went to Angelina for rich hot chocolate, browsed book stands by the Seine, ate escargots (snails), went to the Eiffel tower for sunrise, and stood on line for a designer bag. So cute and cliché. I finally appreciate why the city is so beloved. And yes, I concede, Paris is a very charming city.
Turns out places are fun when you’re not broke, hungover, and backpacking alone. All I needed was to have good company and a slightly bigger budget.
After Rome we headed to Sicily to complete an amazing road trip.
