Paris in Pictures

The emotion of Paris is caught in the romance of pictures, the poetry of the written word. It has been the backdrop muse for countless artists. Each image is an adventure and a story, a few of which I will share.

A typical summer day of shadow and light. Ethan, my brother, and his fiancé came to visit, and after doing headstands under tower, we walked back by way of the Seine.

Vegan fair! On my way home from Canal Saint-Martin, I came across this vegan goodness in Place de la Republique. Waiting in line at Hank's Vegan food truck, a girl in angel wings gave me a coupon for a free burger. Another reminder that this is the lifestyle I want in my future.

In the Grand Palais, a dream made of glass. 

French cuisine is easily one of the finest in the world. At the most basic level, the ingredients taste cleaner, closer to the earth. I had only a handful of mediocre meals in an entire month eating out at Michelin rated restaurants, cafes, street food vendors and bars. One of my favorite meals was this one with my new, incredible friend Jasmine, at La Chambre des Oiseaux.

Shopping! Yes, I indulged in a little retail therapy in this land of boutiques and runway-sidewalks. After looking at the same clothes for the past however many months of traveling, it felt wonderful to wear different colors and textures. Also, I just couldn't wear hole-ridden lululemon stretchy pants around this chic city.

Ethan and Catie in front of Notre Dame. I love how much joy these two get from life and from other. He is a good one, my wise, kind brother. 

Paris has the best Metro. It is amazing and actually gives me a sense of satisfaction to use it. 

What is art? Well if you want to begin to find the answer, Paris would be one of a few places to start. Countless museums, artistic landmarks and galleries dot the map. I particularly loved the Rodin, the Pompidou, and the Quai Branly museums.

Photobombing my own picture. 

Seeing double outside the Quai Branly.

Street art is EVERYWHERE. When searching for tours of the old sewers in Paris, I came across Underground Paris, a small art company that gives tours of some more recognizable Parisian street art. It was on the tour I met Jasmine, and we essentially didn't stop hanging out until a week later when she left to go back to the states. This mural is replaced every two weeks, the wall owned by a street art aficionado.

Paris walking.

Ethan, Catie and I committed one of the biggest faux pas of my entire life at the famous Pere Lachaise cemetery. Running late that morning, we grabbed a picnic of sandwiches on our way to the cemetery, figuring the tombs wouldn't mind if we found a quiet place to sit and eat lunch. Finding a relatively out of the way patch of grass after visiting Oscar Wilde, we sat down to eat. It wasn't three bites into my sandwich when a kindly lady informed us in French that we were sitting in the Garden of Remembrance, and that it wasn't light colored dirt, but ashes we were sitting on. Human ashes. Oh shit. I don't think the three of us will ever forget that crazy experience, and the only response we could muster, embarrassed laughter and out loud apologies to the dead we had been sitting on.

One of my favorite pastimes in Paris was park lounging. I took afternoon sun naps in at least seven parks or gardens, and spent hours reading, writing, people watching and daydreaming. These were the places and times I was most peaceful. 

June 28th was the Gay Pride Parade in Paris. Despite gray skies, it was a banner of rainbow fabulousness love across the city. It is ironic that my time in Paris has been so unabout romantic falling in love. There have been no candlelit dinners, make out sessions at the Eiffel Tower, or handholding down quiet cobblestone streets. Instead, I have tried to hold myself in my own hand, and come closer to that self-love. 

A perfect series of imperfect and real moments, some joyful some sad. Paris, it's been real.

That Way Life Can Be

Paris. What can I say other than it had been an embodiment of how life can be. Lonely, revealing, confusing, crowded, spiritual, joy. It is a little bit of everything, and I have been a careening around a few emotional curves over the past month. Some days I have felt unforgivably tired, weighed down by those multitude of intangibles. Other days, I feel buoyed by a carefree-ness that has characterized much of my traveling. Today, I am happy. I am peaceful and feel a measure of belonging where I am, sitting in a garden in the Rodin museum. The sun is peeking through trees that are raining tiny, yellow flowers; it is beautiful.

My life has taken many turns this year, in ways I could not have possibly foreseen 10 months ago. Love, of course has been a dominating force. Along with family and friendship. I have felt independent (some would say, recklessly so) and then conversely dependent on people to hold me up and bestow upon me love and guidance. I have learned heaps about how I operate and the kind of person I aspire to be, but I have also made mistakes and brought confusion and pain into my life. 

Meditation.

Everyday I receive a daily meditation quote (like this one by White Eagle: "And how, you ask, are we to walk the spiritual path? We answer:  say little and love much; give all; judge no person; aspire to all that is pure and good.") There is so much wisdom in the words of our fellow man. There is also a lot of noise and chaff. Magazine articles and Ted Talk videos that can simplify emotions and relationships. From what I can see we are all so dynamic. We often don't know exactly what we want as we simultaneously seek adventurous change and safe stability. As much as I believed that this year would be my own year of magical realizations, it has been both that and also a letting go of expectations. I understand more than ever that life is unbelievably grand, and heartbreakingly hard. I am questioning "God" or "the Universe," trying to figure out that point of balance restoration that is so essential in an ever changing world. 

Grounded.

I am forever grateful to the people in my life who have listened and still listen to me. I wish I could bundle it all up, and express exactly what I mean, make it simple and pretty, like a famous quote. But, I'm still figuring things out. I have joy, I have experienced true, pure happiness this year, and every year of my life. If life is embracing the unknowns and living in the present, of listening and loving, then good, because that's what I'm trying to do. 

Whew (the sound of sending happy thoughts into the cosmos). 

Aloha Amsterdam!

I left for a quick juant to Amsterdam last week Monday. Swept up in a romantic bliss point sailing on Europa from Antartic to tropical waters, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to reunite with my shipmates (never thought I'd use that word again) and welcome Europa home.

Jenny, and Europa in the distance.

Going through the lock.

To be honest, the trip to Amsterdam was a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand, in the haven of our sweet Airbnb flat, Rachel, Jenny and I laughed, conversed and grew our friendship. I reveled in the excitement that comes with bringing a ship home, and Jenny and my impromptu dance party brought cheers and smiles from the ship as they went through the lock in Ijmuiden. On the other hand, I was made aware of intense drama surrounding one of my close friends from the ship after I left on Ascension Island. Sadly, this served to shake my character of trusting all people. Or maybe it showed me that my snap perception of certain people is usually too simplistic. In any case, I feel like I lost a friend who filled me with energy and adventure. 

Canal boat cruise with Europa friends. Copious amounts of wine was drunk (mostly by me).

When I reflect on the experience that I had on Europa, and the people I met, it makes me feel alive and grand. A ship is a mini cosmos. Personalities, stories, personal baggage, all swirl in this intensely close atmosphere. You must depend and trust in one another in order to keep the ship moving and hearts soaring. Why would you embark on months of time at sea if it weren't for some form of love? Love of the sea, of wild places, of the strangers you will meet who are seeking answers like yourself. The compressed timeline of existence, spending 24 hours a day in a confined space with other people, accelerated and deepened friendships. You share these wildly romantic experiences with each other: sunsets over the ocean, encountering impossible to believe wildlife, dancing under the stars on an open, rolling deck. My heart swells just thinking of the dreamlike atmosphere of pure joy. But, it can also induce restlessness and boredom if not tempered, which I believe was the downfall of my friend. 

In the two months I was onboard Europa, I became closer to myself and was able to make decisions for my life unencumbered and uninfluenced by anyone else. I feel a sense of circle made whole by seeing Europa come home. Meeting again friends who I was parted so dramatically when I was injured and taken from the ship on a hospital boat. I also realized (and I already knew this from my time in the Navy) that the sense of closeness established on adventures and travel doesn't always translate to real, deep closeness. Sometimes it does, and I have many lifelong friendships because of it. But, sometimes the sense of excitement and connectedness has an expiration date. It is no ones fault and it isn't necesseraily connected to superficiality. You can love someone in a moment of life, and not know them the next. It doesn't detract from the beauty of those moments of love. So, yes, in the end I am sad about my friend...but more so I am blessed that our friendship existed in such a state of happiness. 

Parents in Paris!

In the wise words of a woman I greatly admire, Audrey Hepburn: "Paris is always a good idea." And so I find myself in the City of Lights as my year of travel draws to a close. This is an energetic place, and gives me waves of dizziness when I feel the crush of Western tourists all clamoring to see the iconic sights. This is certainly an adjustment from the solitude of the wild places I have been, it is an urban jungle. But adjusting I am, and much do I owe to my family for easing me into that. 

I stepped off the train in Paris Est after an uneventful ride from Frankfurt. Immediately I was impressed with the sheer numbers of people dashing here and there. Walking up Rue Strasbourg, as it eventually transitioned to Blvd. St. Michel, I felt like a lumbering beast with my mochila next to the chic Parisians and well dressed tourists. I was even scammed out of 30 euro like a true travel moron by a "deaf woman" who seemed professional enough with the exception that she was continually blowing kisses at me. As she ran off with my money, and I realized what had happened, I looked down to see this:

I felt somewhat soothed. My old Camino friend, the yellow area, paints itself wide and far across Paris, leading the pilgrim or curious tourist to all the major cathedrals. This one leads to Notre Dame.

Checking into the Select Hotel on a quaint pedestrian plaza directly in front of the Sorbonne, I chilled out and waited for my lovely parents to arrive. And arrive they did! Talking a mile a minute, keen to set out immediately to explore and jonesing for crepes. It felt like a part of me was home when we were reunited, and although I have been in remote places this year, a part of my heart and conscious was always directed towards the good people I love. 

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity, reminiscent of the Rick Steves' vacations of my youth. I smiled at memories of Ethan and I backpacking around Paris and London, always wearing our heaviest coats, no matter the temperature, to lighten the loads of our packs. Walking past Cafe Flor, my parents pointing out the table we sat at so many years before, I could still smell the cigarette smoke of the female patron who sat next to us, more concerned with her lap dog than almost dropping ashes onto my plate. 

The same marker outside Notre Dame that Kelsey and I walked past when we began El Camino nine months ago. Woah.

The Pantheon.

Shakespeare and Company bookstore along the Seine.

Over the weekend, we walked the city streets, dropping into the Pantheon to contemplate the final resting place of such people as Voltaire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, and Pierre and Marie Curie. We mixed culture with the Parisian pastime of shopping, strolling through Rodin's sculpture garden and through the trendy Marais district. Indulging in classic crepes, L'as du Fallafel, dainty sauces, croissants, baguette with a touch of butter, and bold coffee. All things indulgent, all things French.

On Monday and Tuesday, we got our tennis on, watching the gladiators of the sport throw it all down on the court. Our first day was four matches of doubles tennis, lightening quick and fascinating with the teamwork between the pairs. There were certainly more smiles from the players during these doubles games, as the two could work through the ups and downs of the play with each other. The next day we saw Maria Sarapova duke it out against Spanish upcomer Garbine Muguruza, seemingly faltering in the first set, to assert her experience and dominance in the second and third. Next, was Novak Djokovic against Milo's Raonic. Watching him play was like a dream, such skill and grace. As a once removed tennis buff, really only following the game through my parents, it was a thrill to see it played out live. Maybe the U.S. Open 2015?

Nosebleed seats, but still wonderful.

The next day, Mum and Pop headed to the Loire valley and I moved into my home for the next month:

Thank you, mahalo, merci to my Uncle Joel and Aunt Karen for the generous gift of this apartment for a month in Paris. I am inspired. 

Steps from Rue Jacob and Blvd. St. Germain, it is situated in an incredible part of town. In any direction from the flat is a world famous museum. Boulangeries, cafes and open air markets dot the area and there is an air of chic with high end stores next to Sorbonne student influence of art house theaters and art supply stores. I will admit I felt a bit lonely being on my own in this bustling city. It is a truth that the loneliest times can be when you are alone surrounded by people. I never get a sense of loneliness on long hikes or walks in the woods. But isolated by my lack of French speaking skills, overwhelmed by the sheer number of tourists and daunted by the expense of EVERYTHING, it felt like such a different experience than much of my other travels. Despite my loneliness, I set about taking long, long walks through the city, eating tomato and mozzarella sandwiches and taking restful naps in various parks.

I took myself to an Arcade Fire concert, one of my all time favorite groups. I loved knowing and singing to their entire lineup.

My parents returned on Friday and my spirits rose. They loved their time in the Loire valley wine region, lugging back a suitcase considerably heavier with wine than when they left Paris. That last night before they headed home we splurged on dinner at Le Grand Colbert, made famous by the movie Something's Gotta Give. We even sat in the exact spot as Diane Keaton, Jack Nicholson and Keanu Reeves. Full of wisdom and kindness, they helped me sort through my feelings of being lost in this city. I felt invigorated when they left yesterday, with a renewed sense of soaking it all in during my month here. Undoubtedley this city is monumentally beautiful, inspiring the most capable and artistic minds of history. I will endeavor to look past the commercialism and on to the magnificence. 

From Rue Cler, Sacre Coeur, scoping out the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe and Champs-Élysées, Luxembourg Garden and the Tulleries I am exploring bit by bit, with much more to come. Tomorrow I head to Amsterdam to welcome home the Europa after their year wandering the world's oceans.

Random Queen of England drive by. 

Paris from the dome of Sacre Coeur.

Reunion with my Aloha Amiga

I left Jordan, returning to the vibrancy of Jerusalem. Meeting a new hostel friend, Dan from Australia, in the lobby of Abraham Hostel, I used my newfound knowledge of the city to guide him through Yehuda market and the Old City.

A cousin to the falafel, "sabich," is stuffed with all the goodness of tahini and tabbouleh, but instead of falafels it has eggplant and egg. Dan and I feasted.

Wandering through the old streets I had explored with Kelsey, I returned to meditate no less than three times at the Western Wall during the 24 hours I was in Jerusalem. Catching a bus to Tel Aviv the next day, I met up with Dahlia at her place off the chic Rothschild Street, and laughing through our adventures of the past couple of weeks, we walked to Old Jaffa to have dinner with two of her friends.

The next day I indulged in good food with Dahlia and her father and uncle, Bob and Rich, (twins that went to high school with my dad!) and also in some retail therapy. After months of wearing the same clothes, no makeup and just my trusty Hawaii ring, I treated myself to mascara, a new dress and earrings. After all, I had my next adventures in Europe to dress up for.

I stayed with Dahlia two days, embracing her incredible energy and adventurous spirit. She is on to Dublin for 11 months to work for Google, and I so hope my travels will cross paths with hers before I return to the U.S.

Bright and early on May 21st, I flew to Frankfurt, Germany to visit one of my dearest of dear friends, Maria.

Words cannot begin to describe the unique and blessed relationship I have with Maria. Outwardly, we are so very different. Where we are from, our religion (although, I do not claim one), our families, etc. And yet, she is a source of wisdom, and strength from which I draw so much reassurance. We met years ago, stationed on our first ship, USS PORT ROYAL, out of Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. We survived the most stressful years of our lives together on the ship as roommates and confidantes. To witness her growth into a beautiful soul, mother, friend, woman...I am so very proud of her. As it happens, Maria's husband Nicholas, is on a long deployment and it came at a wonderful time that I was able to travel to spend nine fabulous days with her and her girls Genevieve and Evelyn.

I felt rather mom-esque, helping with everything from bath time, making lunches (cutting everything into toddler sized pieces), grocery shopping, and playing baby catch at the bottom of slides. I have never considered myself great with kids, so to have Genevieve snuggle up to me, and Evelyn stop crying when I held her felt truly magnificent and magical. Ahhhh, so this is that motherly instinct.

Genevieve make over in my random scarves.

Maria and I spent countless hours discussing life, love, loss and the search for all that is good. Despite our best efforts, we never did manage to end our conversations until midnight or one in the morning. Often it was little Evelyn, crying in the night, who forced us to shut up! The freezer was stocked with ice cream, the pantry with chocolate, and sipping wine we caught up on the last few years of our lives. 

Purchased from a Jamaican man in the old city of Frankfurt.

After the simply perfect transition of crazy go-go adventure, to the slow gentle pace of Maria's, I headed to Paris to meet my parents, and embark on my next adventure: life in the City of Lights.

And a couple of additional developments:

I found out that, unfortunately, I was not accepted to U of Michigan's Ross School of Business. This year there were record high number of admitted candidates that accepted their offers from the first two rounds of applications, and there were only a few spots for third round applicants like me. I was given some encouraging words from the Admissions Office, and will look to reapplying this coming year for a dul degree.

With that, I have decided to start grad school this Fall at U of M's School of Natural Resources and Environment for an M.S. in Environmental Justice. After some soul searching, an enlightening and life affirming conversation with my brother, Ethan, and the advice of a few wise people in my life, I am ready for the next epic chapter in my life. 

Life is sweet.