I've never been to...

Trip Start Jun 27, 2006
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Trip End Ongoing


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Friday, December 22, 2006

I've done a bit of travelling, but had never been to Paris. I don't know why, It just didn't seem to be on the way to other places I was going. I hadn't had a real reason to go. Once or twice I almost went, but it just never really happened.

And then I moved to Geneva. The French-speaking capital of Switzerland. A three-hour train ride from Paris and surrounded by France. This is where people are completely incredulous when I tell them, "I've never been to Paris."

When a friend of mine picked me up in Annemasse with another friend for my first taste of France in August, we established that this was my first time setting foot in the country. I noted aloud that France seemed a lot like Switzerland (to the chagrin of the French), but even still, over dinner that night, Stan dropped his fork and yelled across the table, "WHAT!?!?!?  You've never been to Paris?!?!?" My friend, whose nickname is France reminded him with something like, "Non, tu sais que c'est sa premiere fois en france, maintenant!" which only sort of helped Stan deal with the severity of my statement.

I was rather enjoying my newfound refusal to visit Paris. David, my current flatmate makes a huge joke of it all the time, "You know that little shop, it's like the one in Paris!" or "I got this table in that little shoppe you love in Paris". My friends in Geneva try to convince me to go, and I'm like, nah, what's the point. I argue that NYC is the most fabulous city on the planet as others point out that I'm arguing blindly, not knowing Paris.

It's not that I don't want to go, I've just not had the opportunity to go out of the way to buy a train ticket. Invites to visit have been weak, at best. And of late, I've been desperate to get to the mountains, if I can strap a snowboard onto my feet.

But yesterday London was under a lot of fog and British Airways cancelled my flight to London. And put me on one via none other than CDG and JFK. Like a challenge to me to prove my point about New York. A how dare you make such claims without fact to back it up?

And then the ultimate situation manifested. My flight from Geneva was en retard and I missed a connection. Amongst other airline follies, I became stranded in the most romantic city in the world. In a t-shirt, pumas and black yoga pants.
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