“City in Belgium” thats all I know. While on train I Met Hanni B. an Artist whose medium is paper mache, she had the most beautiful teal bluish eyes and she showed me a picture of her recent work. I told her she reminded me of Elizabeth Taylor. She asked us if we had seen the movie with Nicole Kidman in “Babygirl”. No but there were posters and banners throughout amsterdam promoting it. The Director is Dutch which explains the heavy promotion.

Arrived at grand opulent train station with banners of the movie, met new acquaintances and quickly went on another walking tour. Its funny that some of the best Dutch food is Chinese. As the four of us waited for the restaurant to open the neighborhood appeared to look rough. Uneven cracked side walks, speeding scooters, bikes and everyone smoking cigarettes. I was hungry and didn’t want to wait, I walked into a Turkish bakery. No purchase because it was all just bread and bready items “I’ll wait”.

The Port city is known for diamonds and Rembrandt House. The best part was observing my friend enjoying her friends whom she had not seen in 20 years. Such good hosts we walked to see old churches of medieval times. A slaughter house that looked like a church and an escalator made of wood slats. On to see Marlene and Francis.

“ I think you should change your flight plans and go to Paris”. I was feeling tired and said I would likely not. Phone call encouragement from my travel buddy’s mom lead quickly to book late night train for two to North Paris. 116 Euro from Amsterdam Central. Stayed at Peoples hostel and in the am, took off to see places I had never been to.
Cynthia is my ambassador of goodness. We met as neighbors and I have been friends since. For 3 decades she plans, researches and together we execute. First stop was Notre Dame which had no lines and is continuing construction. Mass had just started and I attended. I cried I ain’t gonna lie. I was filled with complete joy.
Walk walk walk to the Louvre. Bought 22 euro tickets to see the Lady. All I had ever read about or recalled was waiting for my eyes to glance at a moment of history. Again I cried knowing in all the years of hearing Nat King Cole’s Mona Lisa and reading about all the things Leonardo DaVinci was responsible for. There she was and reverence given. I did not like the 8 deep people taking modified selfies with her. It was sad actually because we become saturated with the self. I choose to accept what is and bask in her glory.
Walk walk walk to the Arc De Triumph. So much grandeur than what is seen in movies or pictures. I stayed outside while Cynthia toured inside. Several stories and floors later we meet underground. The traffic circle was magical. The foreign tourists around the perimeter, exchanges of car horns and low hum of the motorcycles was maddening in the best way. Paris is a really big city. On to the next place which brought on more tears.
The Eiffel Tower was enveloped in a low lying cloud mist. And she is beautiful. Burnt sienna was the colour not black like I thought. And all around leading up to entrance, vendors selling little replicas with flashing lights. These were just as beautiful and the image is cemented in my mind. Walk walk walk.

Parisian affair continue with the cafe at the end of street. an Algerian maitre d’ sat us down and I quickly switch seats to dine with Eiffel view, and an omelette au fromage. My sophisticated amie ordered a whiskey and steak tartare. Pomme frites and a coca cola “25 ml please”. About 55 euros. Everything there was so French. Red and white stripe canopy, the rush attitude of “hurry up and eat” but the best part was the quintessential woman who sat a few tables away. Impeccably dressed with Louboutins, camel coat and Paloma Picasso red lipstick. I was feeling grateful for the whole complement of what I think this place is about. Walk, walk walk.

The Catacombs was the last visit on this wonderful journey. A lot bigger place and a significant amount of walking made this an exciting finish to a great day. I found a wallet while walking among the skulls and leg bones, and looked inside. The guy was from New York and had some cash but I closed it immediately and turned it in. I yelled in excitement ” hey Cynthia…..look what I found” I was proud of myself because we all know how we react to losing a wallet.

The cold air filled my lungs as we walked back to the metro then back to the train station and it felt good. As I sat down and reflected on all the things that we saw ate and touched, I felt an overwhelming amount of bliss and spiritual warmth deep inside and then I was no longer tired or cold. The Algerian host at the cafe perceived us more as cohorts once he realized we were more like travelers than tourist. Initially not knowing he was algerian he asked where we were likey to visit next. “algiers” then it was on like peas and carrots. He has two daughters with one going “soon to university” and 10 years since his last trip home. He told us the French Lady is really nice and she was hired to take pictures with a Lambo. He called her over and I gushed in delight that she made this trip magical for me. She was so gracious which made me feel so silly all over again.

In a nutshell heres what I realized, no matter where you are its paramount to be yourself and stay wide eyed and curious. Once again I want to thank Cynthia for being her spontaneous self and the love she has for people and life.