Atlanta Hotels Blog

August 17, 2010

Things to do on vacation in Paris France

My first trip abroad was to France. It would be an unforgettable journey that would forever be blazed across my mind. Colors, scents, foods, and the language would overtake my senses and always beckon at my heartstrings to return.

I had the privilege of traveling there by invitation, which offered me a great opportunity. It was my artistic work that had made this adventure possible. I was not an avid flyer due to an anxiety disorder so I had put off the invitation for three years. After conquering fear long enough to board that shiny monster, I took my seat. It was a night flight, which gave me hopes of sleeping through most of it.

My new husband sat beside which helped ease the fear. Not understanding panic disorders, as he had never suffered from something he couldn’t see, I wiggled around trying to get comfortable in this undersized seat with winter coats, handbags, and grabbed a magazine to focus on.

The plane was jammed with people from all walks of life. Crying babies filled the cabin with a noise I surprisingly once loved. Then the roaring noise of engines followed by the power that took me far from my control, lifted us high into the air. “Too late to turn back now,” went through my head. I glanced out of the window seeing nothing but darkness dotted with lights from the ground I had just left behind.

My thoughts traveled to a time, many years ago, that I had flown into Atlanta. Vividly, I recalled when we were landing. Suddenly, we were tossed back into our seats as we were projected back up into the air. After circling and landing we found out we had missed the runway due to a heavy fog.

I knew this flight to Paris, France would be long. Daylight would be there when I arrived. The flight attendants traveled the isles with chips and gave me a warm Pepsi in a can. The lights were dimmed inside the cabin for people who could sleep, which naturally left me out of that scenario. But, we moved onward like soldiers in the sky.

There was a huge movie screen in front of me that I turned my attention to. It looked like a map of the sky. You could stare at this little plane icon that moved. Trouble is this icon moved at a snails crawl. I thought to myself, “This is no help at all.” What a nightmare tiny vision of movement it was, so I turned my focus back to magazines adjusting the air vent on high. A nice open window in an automobile anywhere at home would have been a wonderful gift at that moment.

I knew a few lines of French. Oui,

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