On My Own in Paris

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After Elizabeth leaves, I wander around for a couple of hours, then spend the rest of the day at my hostel, hanging out with the other travelers. It's the same hostel I stayed at last time I was in Paris, and Elizabeth told me it's her favorite hostel here. (I highly recommend Square Caulaincourt to anyone!)

The next day, I oversleep and miss the free breakfast downstairs. When I venture out to explore the city some more, I'm greeted with freezing rain and darkness. I go up Montmartre to check out the view again. I absolutely LOVE this tiny mountain. The Eiffel Tower stands tall and majestic, extending WAY above the rest of Paris. I bet it's as tall as Montmartre.

With the intention of going inside, I take the metro to the Eiffel Tower, stopping to admire the massive Arche de Triomphe along the way. (London's Marble Arch is NOTHING compared to this!) Although it's hard to tell in this weather, the area around the Eiffel Tower is nice, touristy, beautiful like something straight out of a fairy tale. I can see how people absolutely fall in love with Paris. Once I reach the Eiffel Tower, I don't feel like going up. I'm tired, wet, and my body is aching from all the walking. I want to go back to my hostel and lie down, but I've already checked out.

Luckily, it's almost time to catch my train back to London, so I hop inside a creperie and order a nutella crepe (aka heaven on earth!) and coffee. I hang out for almost an hour, reading and writing in my notebook. In fact, I get so comfortable that when I look at the clock, I realize that I'm running late.

The Eurostar train asks that passengers arrive at least thirty minutes early to allow time to go through security. I arrive only twenty minutes early. They're already boarding the train. I'm freakin' out, trying to find the platform where my train will depart. I run all over the train station, bumping into the people, draggin my suitcase over their feet. By some stroke of luck, I look up to the upstairs balcony. I see a sign and a doorway leading to another platform. That's where I need to be!

I race upstairs. The security line is long, but most of the people in the line are boarding the same train I am, so I feel confident the train won't leave without all of us. Still, I'm impatient. Only ten minutes to go.

It's my turn to show my passport and ticket to the UK Passport Check. "Where's your customs form?" the man asks.

"My what?" I ask.

"This," he says, irritably holding up a small white form with questions about my nationality, passport number, UK address, length of stay, etc. "You're supposed to fill one out."

"I'm sorry," I say, looking around for one to grab. "I didn't know. Where are they?"

"Over there." He points way behind me, basically to the end of the line where there is a small kiosk. No one is at the kiosk filling out a form. They're all in line just like I am.

"Nevermind!" he retorts, flipping through my passport. "What are you doing in the UK?"

"Working."

"For how long?"

"Ten months."

"Who do you work for?"

I name my school.

He pauses, reading my visa. I feel nervous, so I keep talking. "Well actually, I was hired through an agency and the agency pays me, but I work for the school and they sponsored my visa."

"Alright, go ahead." He hands me my passport, rolling his eyes, looking very put-out.

I run to the train.

As I relax into my seat, I rethink my trip to Paris. In the days leading up to the weekend, I hadn't wanted to go to Paris. It just seemed like a hassle. But now, I'm glad I went. Seeing how Elizabeth has built a life for herself outside of the US is very inspiring to me. If she can do it, I can do it. I feel motivated to create a meaningful life in London.

Yet, some small part of me fears...what if I my life here has too much meaning? What if I never want to return home? I think part of me is holding back because I don't want to fall in love with London so much that I become blind to the joys of my home. I don't want to stay here forever, so it's easier to file this experience into the "temporary" category.

It's easier not to buy the bedside tables and bookshelf, because I won't be here long. It's easier not to learn how to drive here, because I won't be here long. It's easier not to get cable TV, because I'd have to sign a contract for a year's service, and...I won't be here that long.

Will I?

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