It was a cool decision to do a Eurotrip rather than take a cheap, little-to-no satisfaction Turkey trip on an isolated holiday complex. My boyfriend and I decided to visit my cousin in Liege and expand and explore for 10 days for as long as our legs could work and our heads could stay at least at the tip of the clouds.
The flight to Brussels was my first flight ever. The fact that I’m a well-known, self-proclaimed hypochondriac has nothing to do with the (deathly) expectations I had over the flight. Sure, I thought everything and anything that could go wrong would go wrong, of course I was silently, mentally praying that our pilot was sane and had no recent relationship issues or that a bird wouldn’t suicidally fly into our engines – basically all the things that bring a plane down were on my mind – but I was chill. I was trying to be zen.


What do you expect when you fly with a plane for the first time? Moreso when it’s the first time you are leaving the country. Quite frankly, I felt rich, I felt luxurious and I felt like I couldn’t wait to eat the famously delicious airplane food and drink a glass of wine while watching which country we were currently flying over. Well, our flight was low-cost so there were no monitors. The food was great, and expensive. And so was my water.

The minute I got the sense we were starting to lose altitude, I felt relieved and worried over how the typical Brussels fog could somehow take down the plane all by itself. That was not the case, even considering that most of our flight we had to keep our safety seatbelts on and turbulances were present 90% of the time. My stomach was not happy. The landing was smooth and just as I thought we were safe, the airstrip was nearly over so the pilot had to hit the breaks pretty hard. Then that was it. We got off, my cousin picked us up and we got some rest for what was about to be the greatest travel holiday ever.
Out of all our must-see destinations, Paris was, of course, our first. The road was long, the driver had to pee a lot and the passengers were silent, even seeing as a period of at least half a year had passed since the last live conversation. Yet excitement was predominant in the little environment that was our car. Excitement and the GPS.
So what exactly did I learn from Paris?

I inevitably learned that Paris has more McDonald's than Amsterdam has H&M’s, and that’s not even a compliment. Coming from my boyfriend or any other McDonald's lover, well, maybe that would be, but it’s not.
I learned that Marks&Spencer set out not to limit itself to clothes and opened up a food chain. Presumably Romania is way under-developed to have even heard of Marks&Spencer alone ( okay, we do have a couple of those stores).
I learned that snobbish people can rent cool cars on Champs-Elysees for 90 euro for a 20 minute drive and that they won’t even mind that 20 minutes are insignificant in the Paris traffic.
I learned, of course, rather too late, that you can get the same touristic crap for extremely various sums of money in numerous places in Paris. Even from the infinite amount of street sellers.


Last but not least, I learned that the Eiffel Tower, but Paris in general, are – with the risk of sounding corny – breathtaking and amazing and like nothing I have ever experienced before, especially if you decide it to visit it for the first time at nighttime.
Regarding food, I enjoyed the most amazing and delicious meal I ever came across in my entire life at the L'assiette aux fromages restaurant on Mouffetard street. If you have the time, be sure to check it out.
- Sophie Pugh
Disclaimer: Please understand that this was my personal experience in Paris. I chose to recount what my perception of this city was and not to review every attraction.
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