DESTINATION The Eiffel Tower and Beyond
INSPIRATION Amaury Nolasco hooks me up with a new best friend, and G. Love sends us both tickets to his show in Paris.
IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE GOING, ANY ROAD WILL GET YOU THERE.
–Lewis Carroll, Author, Alice in Wonderland
As a kid, Paris to me was the miniature copper Eiffel Tower perched on my parent’s dining room showcase. I daydreamed of visiting the magical city as I stared at it and let my mind wander—strolling down the city streets filled with romanticized Parisians speaking in strong, sensual tones, and living a lifestyle I could only fantasize about through French photos in school.
In sixth grade, I chose France to report on for my country presentation. In order to make sure everyone in class loved Paris as much as I did, I went to overachiever level. Mom Banicki helped me make the famous French pastry profiteroles, better known in the U.S. as cream puffs. I brought them for the class to sample while I read to them about Paris. Afterward, I demonstrated how to make the delicacy with the puff-filler contraption. Squirting whipped cream and powdered sugar always wins classmates’ votes.
My fall through the rabbit hole of London into my Paris wonderland happened by way of speed train the morning of my eighth day—which also happened to be the first day spent with a hangover, only slightly stunted by my boss Lara Shriftman’s travel trip: “Make sure you get Berocca! Best cure for a hangover.”
I had read the ingredients and usage instructions while thinking in Alice terms. Eat me. Drink me. I almost just chewed the Berocca, a large, Alka-Seltzer-like tablet, but instead stopped myself and followed the directions, tossing it into a bottle of water and chugging.
I can appreciate a hangover as a reminder that I’m not superhuman. I especially don’t mind the hangover during travel. A train ride with a little hangover helps avoid the fidgets.
It’s the forced relax that I hate.
Jim, a Midwestern college grad traveler sitting next to me, provided me with a whiskey, which can also do the trick. In addition to the drink, Jim prepped me for my arrival into foreign land. He was the caterpillar to my Alice—with whiskey and advice replacing the mushrooms.
By the time I arrived in Paris, I knew what I wanted to do: Get myself to the Eiffel Tower as quickly as possible.
The trouble was, this was France. They all spoke French. I quickly discovered that I had left my college French back at college. After stumbling around the train station, I found someone who understood me enough to point toward a bus. Rushing to catch it in the sweltering heat, I looked up at the driver and realized I had no idea what to do. I nearly burst into tears.
He saw the swell and nodded for me to go ahead, telling me in broken English that he’d help with the ticket before I left. I slid between two patrons, grabbing onto the pole above us. The smell wasn’t romantic or sensual, it was just strong, B.O. and French cheese. I held my breath, avoiding eye contact with the people crammed against me, and thought about French pastries and vanilla pudding instead.
As we pulled up to the Eiffel Tower, I stepped off the bus onto the sidewalk, holding my luggage, looking up at the beautiful mini copper statue grown to life–and bigger than I imagined.
FROM Amaury Nolasco
TO Angie Banicki
subject 30 Before 30
1) Paris has to be the most amazing city in the world. I love NY, but Paris has an energy and feel to it that it’s impossible to express in words. You just have to be there and you’ll get what I’m saying.
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30 Before 30
Non-Fiction30 Before 30. Thirty days in Europe. Thirty inspired moments of adventure to live it up before my 30th birthday. Just the idea of it gave me purpose. Here was a reminder that I could choose a new path, even if it was only for 30 days. A little backg...
