As a brand new international traveler at age seventeen, my high school French class went on a week-long guided tour through France. The goal of this trip was to learn about French culture firsthand. Having only traveled outside of the United States once before for a family vacation to St. Maarten, I could not have been more excited to experience a European country with my friends. However, this trip was far from perfect, and it quickly left a bad taste in my mouth about traveling in the future. I’m usually not much of a complainer, but as a warning, I’m going to complain a lot here.
The group of students I was traveling with were chaperoned by two teachers and a few willing parents. We all arrived at the airport full of anticipation and excitement. We checked our bags, went through security, and made it to our gate and then boarded the first plane. After sitting on the plane for a bit, we heard fabulous news: flight canceled. Great.
We proceeded to book the next plane out, which took off the next morning at 5am and had two connecting flights with a twelve hour layover in a Washington, D.C. airport. After waking up from a nap on the airport floor in D.C., I looked up at the TV screens above me. Each screen showed part of the Notre Dame Cathedral up in flames. Looking back, that had to be a bad omen foreshadowing the rest of my experience in France.
After finally arriving in Paris, exhausted, we took a bus tour of the city that I hardly remember because I slept through half of it. We stepped off the bus to have some free time, and lining the streets were reporters from all over the world recording the smoking Notre Dame Cathedral in front of us. This remains a devastating image I will never forget.
The next day, we all hopped on a train from Paris to Avignon, and I grabbed a sandwich from a deli inside one of the biggest train stations in Paris. Everything went smoothly until we arrived in Avignon, an absolutely gorgeous city in southern France, and I started to feel nauseous. Extremely nauseous. I spent the rest of my time in Avignon on the bathroom floor with the most aggressive food poisoning I hope I will ever experience. As a scared teenager, in a forgein country for the first time, without family, barely understanding the language, I missed out on two days of our seven day trip crying and in pain.
After physically healing a bit, but still feeling weak and miserable, I rejoined the group and tried to enjoy the rest of my trip. However, my body was not a fan of the trauma it faced from the food poisoning, so I broke out in a full body rash with hives covering my body, and the amount of walking in combination with my physical strength left my feet in searing pain walking around until we arrived back home.
As a usually extremely optimistic person, I tried to enjoy what I could on this trip. I made one of my best friends there, got closer to my two teachers with me, and tried my best to immerse myself into French culture as best I could. However, deep inside me, I have had a hatred for France since that trip. I still claimed the trip was a success to my friends and family, but I was determined to make it back one day to rightfully conquer that city in my own way.
Now, four years later, I currently find myself studying abroad in London. With how close countries in Europe are to each other, visiting other places for the weekend is quick and easy. The first place I wanted to revisit was Paris, France. I was determined to make this trip a better one than before, so my roommate and I planned our train tickets, hostel, and activities beforehand while still allowing us to have separate time to wander around the city leisurely.
Without issue, I arrived in Paris with an open mind, but to be honest, I was petrified. I got onto every train nervously and ate every bite of food with trepidation. Jokingly, I asked my roommate at each meal if she thought I’d make it out of each restaurant alive. Luckily, I succeeded.
While I missed most of the sights in Paris due to exhaustion the first time around, this time we got up from our hostel early each morning to explore. Seeing the Notre Dame in the daylight without smoke coming out of it and without crowds of people crying was one of the highlights for me. It felt surreal to stand in the spot I had four years ago but this time in a much more positive environment.
On top of that moment, I spent a full afternoon in the Louvre, a bucket list item for me. I can now say I saw the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night, something I missed the first time around. I ate some fabulous meals, including escargot for the first time (once again I stayed behind in my hotel when my high school class had this experience). I wandered through Luxembourg Gardens, and I found out some of my French knowledge hadn’t escaped me. Although every person giggled at my American accent, personally, I was just excited I still knew how to order a coffee in French.
With no major conflicts at all, I had spent a successful three days in Paris. It felt like a breath of fresh air. I now no longer hold resentment towards a city simply because I had a bad experience there. I know I’ll visit other places in my future and things will inevitably go wrong, but my attitude towards traveling has warmed from this specific trip. It has given me hope that future foreign endeavors can be just as successful. So, if I’ve learned anything from my time abroad so far, it’s that France may not be as terrible as I’ve made it out to be in my mind.