It's kind of funny. While in Europe, I thought I hated Paris. I thought it was too crowded, and I though it was my least favorite city. After coming home, however, I find myself wishing I could go back there the most. I don't think I got a good enough taste of it. I have really been longing for travel this week, and going through the pictures I took transport me back to those moments. The moments spent being on top of Paris, seeing it all around me, walking up the steps to the Sacre-Coeur, and stepping foot inside. Walking slowly through it, examining and taking in everything around me. My favorite was the people, kneeling in worship, and lighting candles. The quiet atmosphere as everyone took in the beauty that surrounded them, and found peace in the still air.
Afterwards, walking through the streets with a bunch of strangers I know call my friends, looking for someplace to eat, but enjoying the buzz of a Paris weekend taking place all around us. Walking to the Moulin Rouge, and stopping at the corner to get a banana and Nutella crepe, each bite oozing hazelnut greatness onto your fingers. Taking a moment to look up and around, and realizing you were home in a city you had just become acquainted with.
Of course my first home will always be wherever my family is, and the people that mean most to me, but being in a place that just seems to get who and what I am... that is a whole different kind of home to me. Traveling to new and familiar places will always be a second home.
I am so glad I had the opportunity to travel to such lovely places this summer. It has forever changed me, and the way I view things. I will never forget the people I met, and the experiences I had. And I will never forget the day I fell in love with Paris.