My boots plum wore out.
We walked 104.98 miles over streets and up and down subway stairs (much of it looking for public restrooms), strolled through gardens and museums, stopped in at a few churches and said some prayers (please, no more stairs). Oh, and the Parisian cafes! I can’t forget all of the delightful sidewalk cafes and brasseries, bistros and patisseries, and late late LATE night suppers with a few friends. (Too many unforgettable meals to remember!!).
But my boots are toast (and not tasty French toast either). So much so that I am throwing them away in the itty bitty trash can supplied to us in our teenie weenie warehouse-style dorm room at Paris-CDG airport. Au revoir, black suede shoes. You served me well. (Your euthanasia was well earned.)
Truth be told, I’m a bit worn out too. (Don’t worry, you’re not getting thrown out yet. There’s still some hide left on that soul).
This has been an amazing thirty days as we traveled and experienced France and Spain. We lived some dreams and created new ones. We had a few hitchy-dos’s along the way, but we worked through them. (Read it in our new romance novel I AM Still Mostly Speaking to You After 30 Days in Europe).
We re-experienced some favorites like watching the Eiffel Tower lights at night from a bridge across the Seine and, for the first time, saw the Tower from a river boat cruise. We sipped our favorite hot chocolate at Angelinas, and discovered new arrondissements in Paris and the charm of Provence.
We met some incredibly hospitable people who shared their cultures, food, and even homes with us, and exchanged a few sweet smiles with strangers who understood a funny moment that transcended any need for translation.
So yes, I am tired but I am also happy to soon see my home, my friends, and my kitty, and share plain turkey sandwiches for lunch with my sweetie at our kitchen bar… where we will talk about all the memories we made (and the pounds we brought home) over thirty days in May.