June 1, 2006

About two years ago, while on a visit home, Megan and I were talking about all the wonderful places she's been. She asked me, if I could go anywhere in the world, where would I go? What a question! I want to go everywhere and see everything! But, having to choose only one, the choice was simple.... Italy. What could be more romantic, more historic, than a trip to Italy??

Sometime later, she called me and told me that she wanted to take me to Italy for my 50th birthday. As a mother, you can imagine what an overwhelming gift that was to me! And so, I began to dream.

As a result of a job promotion, Megan couldn't take the necessary time off work for my 50th birthday in 2005, so our trip was delayed until 2006. Not a big deal for me. I've waited 50 years, what's one more?!? Eventually, our plans took shape. We would fly to Paris and then make our way to Italy by Eurail. Other than a very sketchy itinerary, we had no other schedule than that. We both agreed that we would take each day as it came, and make plans as we go.

Our adventure began on June 1, 2006. I flew out of Tulsa, Megan out of Sacramento, and we met in Dallas around 11 am, where we spent several hours anticipating the coming two weeks and the experiences we were getting ready to share. What an exciting day it was! All of my life, I've dreamed of seeing Italy and it was finally here. Our plane left Dallas around 5:30 pm and was due to arrive in Paris at 9:30 am local time on June 2nd. Calculating in the 7 hour time difference, our flight was about 9 hours long. Silly me... I figured we'd sleep most of the flight over, arrive fresh and ready to see the sights. Not so. Nine hours in economy class is not conducive to good rest! Not that it was miserable! Heaven's no! I was excited and absolutely unable to stop thinking about the days ahead, and the sites we were getting ready to see. I was armed with one large wheeled duffel bag, a shoulder bag for odds and ends, a digital camera and a digital palmcorder. I intended to record every minute of the next 16 days!

I can't even begin to describe our arrival in Paris. Here I was, on the other side of the ocean, foreign soil... a first for me! We made our way to customs, my head swimming with the vision of all those wonderful little stamps my passport would collect over the coming two weeks. I was a bit disappointed when the customs agent examined my passport and handed it back to me without stamping it! (Hey, wait a minute! I EARNED that stamp, buddy! I've just joined legions of world travelers before me, and don't even have the stamp to prove it!)

We retrieved our bags, made our way outside for what had to be the most enjoyable cigarette I've ever experienced, and joined the cue to wait for a taxi. This is where we first experienced the language barrier. Our driver spoke French, of course, and we did not. But, we had a travel book with our hotel's name and address and with some appropriate universal gestures, we were on our way to the Hotel Mercure, in the Opera Garnier district of Paris. Merci beaucoup!